The World I Know
by DuckiePray
Summary: A humiliating defeat sends one turtle into a downward spiral of   contemplation and despair. "What's the point in fighting for them, when there isn't any hope for us? Choosing to be on their side doesn't force them to be on ours."
1. Missing

***I've been chasing a plot bunny since last night, and this is the result. If you're familiar with my other stories, this one is a little different. I decided to forgo my collection of OC's and my complicated story-line to return to their roots. It also gives me a chance to get another injection of Splinter - something I've been craving, thanks to Mikell.**

**Fear not readers, I have not abandoned Redemption. I've finished writing it, and it's not ending any time soon. Actually, it's just starting to heat up. ;) This "Oneshot" focuses back on the turtles teenage days, before any of my OC's were a twinkle in their eye.**

**I do not own the TMNT...I just enjoy playing in their world. Thanks for reading.**

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* * *

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The repetitive dripping was the sound that called the turtle back to reality. A flash of irritation coursed through his mind, as he reached for his pillow to muffle the disturbance. He was surprised when his arm struggled to obey the mental command, shuddering with the effort it took to raise it a few inches.

_Shell, why can't I even..._

The thought trailed off his arm came crashing back down, and shooting pain ran through the limb like a current of electricity. A groan escaped through his gritted teeth, but he was no less determined to accomplish something. The turtle blinked rapidly as he opened his eyes, and tried to distinguish his surroundings. It was so dark he could barely see a thing; tiny shafts of light struggled to penetrate the shadows.

All at once, the turtle became acutely aware of a nauseating stench, which produced an uncontrollable urge to get sick. The speed with which he turned his head only made the sensation worse. As he threw up violently he was overwhelmed by the splitting pain in his head, and embarrassed of losing control of his stomach.

The all-over ache was registering more like a fiery burn by the time he was finished. Disgust twisted through his gut and fueled the turtle's desire to escape the mess he'd created. He summoned his energy to attempt another move, his body protesting every inch that he pushed. He doggedly continued shifting little by little, until he'd rolled onto his other side.

The stench was no better, but at least he'd managed to _do _something. The turtle exhaled shakily - an action that barely constituted breathing. He steeled himself to take a deeper breath, but it wasn't worth the agony that exploded in his plastron. Shallow breathes were better than nothing. The turtle focused on maintaining a small intake of air, with the least pain possible. He started trying to assess his situation, but the smell was so powerful, it was difficult to think about anything else.

_Man, I really don't want to throw up again. I've got to get out of...wherever here is._

The turtle tried to work his way up into a sitting position, but rather than getting anywhere, it felt like he was sinking. He fought to keep from being swallowed by the unseen mass beneath him, but struggling only seemed to make him sink faster. It was a useless effort to start with; he didn't possess the energy to fight against the darkness that was overwhelming

him. Intense weariness pulled on his eye-lids, their sheer weight driving them closed.

_I can't give up this easily, I have to get up! I have to find them._

Disorganized thoughts swam through his mind as reality faltered.

_Are they lost...or am I?_

For some reason the question triggered a jolt of panic that had him gasping for air.

_Can't breathe, I can't..._

The turtle's body trembled as he tried to force air through his lungs, and felt tears escaping to his own shame. The utter helplessness of being trapped and worthless invited a tide of tears that he didn't want to give in to.

_Where are they? They're _always _here. Did they catch them, are they hurt?_

He wanted to breathe, cry out, and throw up all at the same time. But more than that, he wanted his brothers; he wanted them to understand that he needed them. Darkness tugged at his mind, making further contemplation difficult. The turtle gasped for air one last time, before the final fringe of consciousness fled from him.

* * *

Splinter was finished pacing, and finished waiting. The incessant twilight of their underground home made it impossible to distinguish what time of day it was - but he knew. The rat knew it was far too close to daylight, and his missing son was still that: missing.

His tail flicked back and forth with irritation as he looked down at the cell-phone in his hand. Splinter had always felt like the technology was over his head, but Donatello had done what he could to make the device easier for him to use. Calling his absent son only required the use of a single digit on the phone - what Donatello referred to as a "speed-dial".

Splinter had used it a number of times already, without having any success in reaching his son. Something was wrong; he_ knew _something was wrong without even speaking to the turtle. He had a tendency to worry whenever his young teenage sons spent an extended amount of time on the surface - but never more than when one of them was off alone.

The three had returned much earlier that night from their typical exercises on the city heights, which served more for their entertainment than anything else. Only one had separated from the group, choosing to remain on the surface.

_I trust my boys. They have trained hard, and they understand the need for caution. But they are still so young, and at times...reckless._

Splinter looked at the clock again. There was only a little over an hour and a half before daybreak. It would take a few minutes to reach the street level, meaning even less time to devote to a search.

_I should have acted hours ago, when I could not sleep. Now time runs short, and I have no one to blame but myself._

The rat was sorely tempted to go alone. To risk his sons against the rising sun was not an idea he relished. He would have preferred to seek for his missing son on his own, trusting his intuition to help him find the turtle. For the moment, however, his confidence in his instincts felt shaken.

_I have come to _expect_ to feel anxious when they choose to wander, and so I fought the urge tonight, instead of taking it seriously. The other boys may hold the key to where he has gone. We're going to have to do this together. What would they think if I simply left without them? I do not wish to encourage any more of this 'loner' behavior. I suppose the example must start with me._

With a heavy sigh Splinter started for the staircase, and leaned hard on the banister as he climbed to the second level. The rat paused by the first door he came to, and softly opened it without making a sound. His eyes rested on the empty top bunk for a few seconds, before he turned to the turtle sleeping on the bottom.

"My son."

The young turtle stirred with a grunt. "Sensei? What time is it?"

"Early, but you must get up, my son. We have precious little time to waste."

"What's going on, Sensei?"

"Your brother has not come home, and the day is close to beginning. We must fetch your other brothers, and move quickly to search for him."


	2. Waiting

Waking up was harder the second time; reminiscent of using his head to break through a brick wall. At least, that was what it _felt_ like he'd been doing. The turtle was instantly accosted by the same ungodly stench that he vaguely recalled from before. His stomach turned as he felt himself on the verge of getting sick again, and he swallowed hard to force the sensation back down. When the turtle opened his eyes he could see small traces of bright patches, but his vision was so blurry that he couldn't make out anything else.

_Wait...where did I end up?_

He held on to the rational thought, in the hope that he might be able to produce more of them.

_They left me. Or did they? Those guys could have done anything they wanted with me - why let me go?_

The continual buzzing in his head was making it difficult to think straight, but he was determined to try.

_Did they think I was dead...dying? _Am_ I dying?_

The shallow breaths that remained all he could manage weren't encouraging.

_If I were dying...no, this isn't how I pictured it. I can't _believe_ how many times I've pictured it, _he thought bitterly. _We've risked our necks night after night, for what? Some kind of greater good?_

A girl's face returned to his memory, like a demon hell-bent on torturing him until he took his last breath.

_She was the picture of innocence...and she played her part well. Ninja warrior indeed. She set me up, and I never saw it coming. It always been about protecting them, saving _them_. Now I get to rot in some stink-hole, and never see any..._

The turtle's mind began to zone out before he could finish the thought, darkness crowding around him so that even the faint illumination of his prison began dwindling. The sharp report of pain in his chest canceled out the weary tide that was trying to take him, and he was sincerely disappointed.

_Better not to feel, not to...question. Just let go. Let..._

Her face was still with him, and it was accompanied by voices this time.

_Freak. Monster. Animal. Those were some of the nicer names_, he recalled. _But who are the real animals?_

The turtle shut his eyes tightly, as if to somehow block out the mental images left over from the brutal assault. He choked on the next breath he attempted, shivering violently as goose bumps formed across his arms.

_It was the right thing, or I thought it...but it didn't...doesn't matter. It's not what I do, or we do. We just...we _are_ what we are, and nothing can change that. Nothing can change...nothing..._

Another image flashed through his mind of playing with his brothers the night before, chasing and being chased.

_We were happy...we were together. Why can't we just stay like that? Why do we have to fight? None of them see me...not for who I am. I wish they could have. I wish they'd find me, and I could tell them how it really is. I need them. Shell, I need them. Sensei, I didn't mean to let you down. I never meant to...If I had the chance..._

The thought slipped away from him like water through a sieve, and the blessed sense of "unknowing" prevailed once more.

* * *

"...And, we're out."

April O'Neil had never been so glad to hear those three words in her entire life. The red-headed woman fought to control a shudder and remain _somewhat_ dignified as she bid farewell to her Producer.

"Thank you so much, sir. I really appreciate you helping me get out early."

"Yeah, what's your rush this morning?" her cameraman drawled lazily in the exaggerated southern accent that probably worked on _some_ women.

"I can't thank you enough for being patient with me." April ignored the man altogether, directing the comment at her boss.

"What are you late for, April? Do you have to go sniff out the_ real _scoop on your own?" Cameraman shot at her.

_On a mental note_, _he really doesn't handle rejection well. _

"I have a...a family crisis to deal with - not that it's any of your business. Excuse me," she finished shortly, and stalked away from the two men.

April glanced over her shoulder to make certain she wasn't being followed, and then picked up speed to get to the bathroom. Her phone was in her hand before the door had even finished shutting behind her. The woman glanced down at the facing.

_No missed calls. I don't know if that's a good thing, or a bad thing._

With shaky fingers she dialed Splinter, praying for good news. The phone rang six times without getting an answer, and April hung up. She immediately tried to dial him a second time. When only ringing met her again, she nearly hung up the phone to try one of the other boys. Before she hit the button, however, Splinter greeted her on the other end.

"Miss O'Neil." The voice that was normally so soothing to listen to was wrought with weariness.

"Master Splinter, did you find..." There was no reason for her to finish; April could tell from his tone that they'd been unsuccessful.

"We did not find him, but there was not much time," Splinter replied tightly. "My sons did not wish to return to the sewers, but we had little choice in the matter. To keep searching in the daylight could spell certain disaster."

April choked back a sob, unwilling to break down and make matters worse. "He...he's strong, Master Splinter, and he's resourceful. I'm sure he found someplace safe." The words felt lame even as they left her mouth.

"I thank you for your concern, Miss O'Neil. There is nothing left for us to do, except wait for darkness to fall, and pray that he is all right."

"I can look too," April volunteered at once. "I got out of my other assignments for the day. If you give me directions from where the guys split off last night, I'll start in on the some of the neighborhoods you didn't get to cover."

"Miss O'Neil..."

"Please, Master Splinter, there _is_ something else that I can be doing. I didn't just get out of work so that I could sit on my hands all day. I know that I'm not technically one of you, but the five of you have become the closest thing I have to a family."

"April-chan...Your coming to us was like a breath of fresh air, in a world that rarely feels the wind. You are _kazoku_. That is why I worry for you as I do my own sons."

It took the woman a few seconds to find a suitable response. It was the first time in her remembrance that Splinter had addressed her by anything other than "Miss O'Neil".

"I'm not going to do something crazy here, Master Splinter, but I have to try and find him too. I'll keep in touch."


	3. Guilt & Searching

"Sensei?" Donatello's voice sounded small and insignificant in his ears. He'd been standing in the living area for a couple of minutes, and the way his Master's ears perked up left no doubt that Splinter had heard him. "Master, do you need anything?"

The rat exhaled softly as he glanced at the purple-masked turtle. "My son...you should be resting."

When daylight had hit the streets above, the three turtles had split in different directions to search the sewers. None of them had found any sign of their missing brother, and returned home at Splinter's insistence about an hour before.

"I know, Father, but...How are we supposed to relax, knowing he's out there alone and..." Donatello swallowed hard as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. "We shouldn't have left him."

"Donatello, sit down."

The turtle shuffled around the front of the couch, and sat down adjacent to his Father's chair.

"Is there anything else that you need to tell me about last night?"

There was no judgment in his Sensei's voice, but Donatello still couldn't meet his eyes.

"No, Master, but I can't help feeling like it all could have been avoided. We shouldn't have separated."

"My son, your regret is understandable, but you cannot give in to fear. You must cling to the hope that we are going to find him."

Donny nodded. "Yes, Sensei."

"You will need energy for tonight, so all three of you must get a couple of hours rest at least," Splinter said firmly.

Donatello bit his lip; his gaze was still fixated on the same spot on the coffee table. "There has to be a more reliable way to track each other, Master. It's too easy to lose the signal from our cell phones. Not to mention if we're separated from the phones, all the tracking technology is moot."

"Donatello, I do not want you to torture yourself with these details right now. You are only feeding the fear that already exists."

The turtle nodded to convey understanding, but his shoulders slumped with discouragement. He was startled when his Master's fingers lightly gripped his knee.

"You take far too much responsibility on yourself, my son."

Donatello blinked as tears threatened. "I just want to _find _him, Sensei."

Splinter extended an arm around his shell. "So do I, and we will. Your brother is still with us, though he is not physically here. I can sense his spirit, and I know that he lives. You know this too, don't you, my son?"

The purple-masked turtle hesitated, but then finally looked at his Master again. "I don't feel like he's dead...but something's wrong. It _has_ to be."

"And to help him, you must also help yourself," Splinter pointed out.

"_Hai_, Sensei."

"And the same goes for you, Michelangelo," the rat added more loudly.

Donatello looked up toward the second floor, and saw his orange-masked brother crouching near the railing.

"Sorry, Sensei!" Mike called sheepishly.

"Boys, you must get some rest. You scoured the sewers for hours. You cannot expect to push yourselves all night at the same pace without some sleep. We must be prepared for a long search, so I want you to at least try."

Donatello bowed somewhat stiffly, and headed for the stairs. Michelangelo had already retreated to their shared room by the time Don got up there. His brother peeked over the top bunk at him as Donatello entered the room.

The purple-masked turtle didn't say a word; he simply dropped heavily onto the bottom bunk. Roughly sixty seconds later, Mike stuck his head further over the railing.

"Are you asleep, Donny?"

Donatello resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because he knew his younger brother meant well. "No, Mikey, and I doubt I'll be able to sleep."

Donatello reached under the bed to retrieve his notebook with a grunt, and yanked his flashlight out too.

"Don, why do you gotta mess with your 'plans' right _now_? It's not gonna help us get him back," Mike said quietly.

"I know that, Mike, I do. But I've been working on this proto-type for months , and I can't help feeling like I ought to be further along with it."

"You're not blaming _yourself _because he's missing," Mike said incredulously.

"It's not like that. It's just...when there's something more I could have been doing, it's kind of hard to reconcile with."

"_Meaning_, you feel guilty because we didn't find him."

Donatello rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. "In a way, I guess that's true."

"Bro, you have to stop this."

"I can't help it, Mike. It isn't just that we can't trace his phone. That argument last night was so stupid; it never should have blown up like that!"

"That wasn't your fault either, Donny."

"Maybe not, but I was the first one to do the leaving."

With a soft thud, Michelangelo landed on the rug beside him. "I'm not gonna listen to you talk like this, and you're not doing any work either. You told Sensei you'd try to sleep, and I'm not moving from this spot until you do." The orange-masked turtle settled into a cross-legged position on the floor, and offered him a half-grin.

Donatello released the notebook into his brother's hands. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"Y'know, Donny, for being such a good brother, you apologize an awful lot."

"I think too much," Donatello said ruefully. "If I could just turn it off, and stop analyzing everything to death..."

"You're too smart for your own good sometimes, bro. You gotta stop trying to take responsibility for everything that goes wrong around here. Leave some guilt for the rest of us."

* * *

April stared blankly at the street sign above her head, lost deep in thought concerning what her next move should be.

_If I was one of them, where would I go? The sewers make the most sense - we can only hope that he got that far. But if he didn't go home, it's because he _couldn't. _If he's hurt, he wouldnt have been able to travel far. Clearly, he's not somewhere in the open. Even in this city, it would be pretty hard to miss a mutant turtle. A discovery like that wouldn't stay quiet for long._

April glanced up at the street signal, as she waited for the opportunity to cross the road. She'd been wandering through two different neighborhoods most of the day, without any idea where she should be searching. The effort felt a little futile, but April also didn't have the heart to give up on it.

She strode across the street and glanced down at her watch again. It was barely 6:00pm - still over three hours before the sun would start to go down. April's head jerked back up at the sound of blaring horns, and she saw three young men bolting across the street, heedless of traffic.

_I swear they multiply come summer time._

April's gaze followed the boys as they traveled up the block. They were speaking loudly, and she was certain she heard snippets of Spanish. Her brow furrowed as she studied their style of dress.

_Black and gold...that means Latin Kings._

While she watched the young men sauntered closer to a basketball court, where more of them were already hanging out. April's knee jerk reaction was to turn the opposite direction.

_I've probably spent enough time in this neighborhood._

She'd made it a couple of steps away, when the sound of a loud _clash _stopped her in her tracks. April looked over her shoulder, as raucous laughter momentarily drowned out the metallic noise that had attracted her attention. After a couple of seconds the ring of young men parted, to reveal a mock battle taking place between two individuals handling what looked like swords.

_Those hardly look like their standard gang weapons. Is it even possible..._

April couldn't finish the thought, but she couldn't move on either.

_I have to find out for sure._

_

* * *

_

*** You didn't REALLY think I'd go another chapter without telling you who's missing, did you? I may be kind of evil, but I'm not heartless. Thanks for reading and reviewing! I haven't decided how long this "Oneshot" is going to be yet, and your input is helpful.**


	4. Risk

April slowly made her way toward the basketball court, and settled down on a bench on the farthest side away from the young men.

_This is so stupid. What am I supposed to say to them? Did you happen to jump a mutant turtle last night?_

Approaching them seemed like the last thing she should try, but April couldn't walk away and pretend she hadn't seen anything either. As she watched them for a couple of minutes, at least part of their brash behaviour was explained. There was plenty of drinking going on.

Her eyes roved between the group and the rest of her surroundings. April was uncomfortable in her proximity to the gang members, and wary of the possibility of more showing up.

_You know the cops are spread too thin when they're bold enough to act this way in public. Then again, give idiots enough alcohol and their true nature is going to come out uninhibited. Another good reason not to stick around._

Minutes passed, and April was still contemplating how to find out what they'd been up to in the least suicidal fashion, when it became apparent that one of them was watching _her_. The woman stiffened as three of the youths headed her direction, but maintained her position on the bench. She cautiously eyed the lanky man in the lead, taking in as much information about him as she could.

_His swagger suggests his status is higher than the others, and he's definitely not a teenager...probably early twenties. That means he's _really _committed to the gang. He looks...Puerto Rican maybe?_

April also noted the twin scars on his left cheek, and what were obviously more recent abrasions. As the young man approached he held one of the katanas casually at his side, and she couldn't help but stare at the weapon.

"We don't usually let anyone park here, but if the view ain't bad, I don't see so much the harm," he told her slyly, edging onto the bench beside her. "I noticed you watching us too."

The man's tone wasn't threatening, but his lack of regard for her personal space was disturbing.

"I'm sorry, I was just a little fascinated. I was um...waiting for someone, and I got sidetracked." April tried her hardest to sound interested and not nervous. "Your sword looks so real."

The man grinned. "Better believe it is, Chica."

He held the blade up higher for her to look at, and April's heart caught in her chest.

_There's no mistaking it._

April gripped the back of the bench as hard as she could to deter her body from trembling.

"It's the finest steel I've ever handled. Were you enjoying the show?"

She forced a smile and nodded. "It's beautiful. My father collects this kind of weaponry." April was lying through her teeth, wracking her brain for how she could get more information without actually asking for it. "I don't suppose _you're _in the market."

"To sell you mean?" His cocky grin widened. "Nah, I'm not in the habit of selling souvenirs. I'm pretty attached to this one."

"It does seem like a unique find."

The young man lounged further across the bench. "Unique...well, you could say that it is two of a kind."

"Where did you source them from, if you don't mind me asking?" April had to get around to it.

The two youths that had accompanied the speaker laughed out loud at her question, and the Puerto Rican chuckled when one of them thumped him across the back.

"Our _source_ was rather unique too."

His statement only produced more laughter; the boys seemed to be enjoying their private joke immensely.

"Yeah, you'd be pretty shocked if we introduced you," one of the others offered.

"Almost as shocked as the trash-men are going to be come tomorrow!" the man beside her added.

As their laughter continued to echo in her ears, April felt like her head was beginning to spin.

_Leonardo...oh God...what did they _do_ with you?_

"He got his last meal at least - as long as he likes Chinese," one of the lackeys cracked to the other, threatening to set off a whole new round of laughter.

April shook from both revulsion and fear as the Puerto Rican sidled up even closer to her.

"I've got all kinds of weapons I could show you, Chica. It's all about what you like."

"I...um...I've seen enough," she replied. "Thank you for..showing me. I should go. My friend should have been here already; I need to call him."

April drew her cell phone out, but she wasn't ready for the young man to snap it out of her hand.

"What's your rush? I thought we were getting along nice."

"Give me my phone please," April said stiffly.

"I don't think you need it. You also don't need some guy who can't show up on time to meet you. If you were _my_ Queen, you'd know how it feels to be taken care of."

"I don't _need_ to be taken care of - I want my phone! Let me have it!"

The two lackeys were hovering closer now, and appeared to be loving the game their leader had started.

"Excuse me," a firm voice interjected from behind. "Is there a problem over here?"

April's head whipped around to see a man with cropped dark hair and piercing blue eyes that were regarding the gang-bangers.

"Yeah, there's a problem," Puerto Rican replied. "You're butting into our business."

"No need to get excited. I think you should give the lady back her phone, and let her have some room to breathe." As the stranger spoke, he conspicously drew attention to the badge and service weapon on his belt. "You don't want any trouble here, do you?"

The calm authority in his voice was instantly reassuring to April, and she'd never been more happy to see a cop in plain clothes.

The man beside her relinquished her phone. "No, man, there's no problem here."

"Good...that's what I thought," the stranger returned, taking a step forward as April bolted to her feet. "You gentlemen have a nice evening."

The officer jerked his head at her, and April gratefully followed him off the basketball court.

"Thank you. I don't know where you came from, but thank you," she told him.

"It was a pleasure. Begging your pardon, Miss, but you might want to consider vacating this neighborhood. Can I help you get a ride?"

"I'll just grab a cab. Listen, Officer..."

"Long, Timothy Long."

"Officer Long, what precinct do you report to? I'd love to get in contact with your superior."

He chuckled. "Uh, no...I'm not NYPD; I work out of Jersey. I'm just in town with my kid." The man pointed to a vehicle across the road, and April could make out the blond head of a young girl. "She loves the ballet like nothing else, so I bring her in to the city at least once a year for a show. Anyway, I had my badge and gun with me, so it wasn't a problem. I'm glad I could help, Miss."

"April. After the day I've had, you're a real lifesaver."

"Let's see about hailing you a cab, huh?"

He cracked a smile, and April nodded thankfully, even as her heart-rate picked up once more.

_I've got to call the others. We have to find him._

_

* * *

_

***What? I'm not allowed one cameo? If you don't know what I'm referring to, you can pretend I said nothing at all. ;)**


	5. Lead

"You _can't_ be serious!"

Donatello's heightened pitch caught Raphael's attention, and drew the red-masked turtle to venture further into the Lab.

"April, we appreciate your help. No, I mean it, but you can't do things like that!"

Raphael wanted to interject something into the phone conversation Donatello was having with their human friend, and nearly had to clamp his mouth shut to stop himself.

"You've given me good parameters to work with." Donatello's tone softened. "I should be able to cross-reference the Latin King's territory with both trash pick-up and Chinese restaurants, and get at least a couple of leads...No, you're not doing any more searching! Go home, and I'm going to start researching. I'll let you know when I find out anything for certain."

The purple-masked turtle hung up the phone, and glanced over his shoulder at a waiting Raphael.

"What's the deal, Genius?"

"April's been searching around the Latin King's turf, and found a couple of them_ playing _with Leo's blades." Donatello's voice shook slightly, and Raphael couldn't tell if it was from anger or anxiety. Probably both.

"_Then_ what happened? Tell me she didn't do nothin' dangerous, Donny!"

"She talked to them, and managed to get a couple of clues as to where Leo could be. I need to get to work here, Raph." Donatello gave him a pointed look, and Raphael suddenly realized how close he'd crowded in to his brother's desk chair.

"And y' don't need me looking over your shoulder," Raphael supplied. He backed up slightly, but held his brother's brown eyes for a moment longer. "Hurry, Don."

"I am. I should have some possibilities soon."

The red-masked turtle sighed sharply as he left the Lab, so Donny could work in peace. He flopped into a chair in the living area, and tried to pretend that he didn't notice his Master's gaze for as long as he could.

"Raphael." Splinter wasn't going to let that last.

"Sensei?" he responded quietly.

"There is a good chance that we will going to the surface before sunset, if your brother can find a good lead. The danger is great, but..."

"Leo needs us." Raphael fumed. Running around underground all day hadn't been _his_ idea of time well spent.

"The situation calls for the utmost of discretion," Splinter went on. "You are capable of this, my son. I only wanted to give you fair warning."

"I can't lose it up there." Raphael nodded. "I get it, Sensei."

The minutes passed like hours as they waited for word from Donny. By the time the door to the Lab came open, Raphael felt like he had a thousand pounds of pressure inside of him, on the verge of exploding in an effort to get out. Donatello immediately dropped to his knees by the coffee table, and cleared off all the things on top of it with a sweep of his arm. Then Donny straightened a map out on the table, and looked at Splinter.

"We're looking at three probabilities, based on physical location of the gang's territory, dumpster pick-up, and the style of restaurant. Are we going to move on this, Sensei?"

The rat nodded. "We cannot risk Leonardo's life, or the possibility of being discovered - not if we have a true idea of where he could be."

"I was thinking..." Donatello faltered, and Raphael could tell he was holding back from offering instructions.

"Yes, my son?"

"I believe that splitting up would be the most effective use of our time. We could cover more ground."

Splinter hesitated. "I agree, to a point. I do not want anyone to be on their own, but if you and Raphael will stay together, then I will take Michelangelo with me. You are certain of these locations?"

"That's where my info is pointing," Donatello replied.

"Then we will not waste any more time."

* * *

The group stayed together during the underground trek, until it was necessary to split off in their separate directions. Silence had accompanied them for most of the journey so far, but now that Raphael was alone with Donny, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Don...about last night," he said haltingly. "I know I threw you under the bus with Leo, and I'm really sorry."

"Raph, can we not do this?" Donatello asked softly. "That stupid fight feels completely irrelevant in the face of everything, don't you think?"

"I'm not trying to start something here, Genius. It's just...you trusted me, and I sold you out. I'm sorry."

Donatello's eyes focused on him for a fraction of a second. "I told you already, it doesn't matter. Let's not get into this, okay?"

The speed with which Donatello looked away from him told Raphael that it _wasn't _okay, and probably wouldn't be for awhile.

_He's sure not gonna admit it though. Shell, it'll be a hundred years before he confides in _me_ again._

They reverted back to silence and Raphael dutifully followed behind his brother, awkwardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt. Wearing a disguise to go to the surface felt like throwing a blanket over the elephant that was in the room. A small cover-up couldn't change what was obviously underneath. He didn't care so much about being seen at this point. If Raphael could have had it his way, he would have continued searching for Leonardo long after sun-up.

He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost ran into Donatello before realizing his brother had stopped. Donny was studiously gazing at the grating directly above them, hesitating.

"Is this it, Donny?'

"It should be," he acknowledged, and braced himself on the metal rungs to climb up partway. "It looks like this will bring us right out into the alley."

"After you, bro."

Donatello cautiously lifted the grating out of place, and silently peered out at the street level. "Coast is clear, Raph. C'mon."

The red-masked turtle hoisted himself up behind Donatello, and his breathing unconsciously quickened as he looked around the alley in the light of day. While his eyes were still roving, Donatello was already moving toward a dark blue dumpster against the side of the brick building. As Donny yanked the cover open, Raphael rushed to get to his side, and caught him by the arm.

"Hold it, brainiac. You've done your part - _I'll _do the dirty work."

Raphael tugged his brother out of the way, and climbed up the side of the receptacle. His first scan of the top layer of trash revealed nothing but the plastic bags, and his heart automatically sunk.

_Doesn't mean he ain't here._

He took one last breath of fresh air before jumping into the dumpster for a closer look. He didn't stop to think what _else_ could mixed in with the plastic coated bags; he had only one goal in mind. Raphael began shifting two bags at a time, tossing them against the side-walls of the receptacle to get to the layers underneath.

"Do you see anything?" Donny's voice was low, but he sounded urgent.

"Not yet, Don, but I'm looking. Keep an eye out for_ me_, okay?"

As Raphael continued blindly digging, his left hand suddenly hit something that felt more solid than the boxes and trash bags he'd been running into. He renewed his effort of sifting through debris, until the familiar sight of his older brother's plastron came into view. A soft curse left his mouth as Raphael worked desperately to unearth Leonardo.

"Donny, he's here! I found him!" Raphael barely managed to keep his voice down.

Donatello's face appeared at the mouth of the receptacle, and Raphael held up a hand to stop him from jumping in.

"Don't - I've almost got him!"

Raphael wrapped his arms around his brother's torso, and hauled his dead-weight out of the junk heap. His hand trembled as he touched Leonardo's forehead experimentally. His brother's trademark mask was missing, and his face was covered in dried blood.

"Leo?" Raphael barely breathed. "Bro?"

The older turtle was so still, so lifeless...

Raphael fingered Leonardo's wrist, shuddering when he located a pulse. "I knew you were tougher than that, Fearless," he murmured.

"Raph, can you hand him to me?" Donatello's voice cut in.

He nodded, and was just working his way over to the side when an uncharacteristic curse slipped from Donny's mouth.

"_Wait_, stay down, Raph, someone's coming!" he hissed.

"What are you doing?"

"Just stay down!" he ordered, as he ducked back out of Raphael's sight.

* * *

***How many cliffies can I go for in a row? R/R to find out. ;)**


	6. Priority

"Donny?" Raphael called hoarsely. "_Donny_!"

"Be _quiet_, Raph," his brother whispered fiercely. "I'm trying to hear them."

"Who?"

"We haven't exchanged names yet. Shell, they _are_ coming this way!"

"Don-"

"Raph, listen. I'm going to create a distraction and lure them away from here. Get Leo underground, and call Sensei."

Raphael raised his head to look out of the dumpster at his brother. "Donny, don't you-"

"Just do it." Donatello interjected, as he pulled down the hood of his sweatshirt further over his face. "I'm going."

Raphael barely had time to utter another syllable before his brother took off like a shot. The red-masked turtle cursed Donatello's name, right around the moment he heard the astonished gasps of two figures that had been hovering near the entrance to the alley. The protective voice in his head was ordering him to charge after his younger brother; but at the same time, it commanded him to get Leonardo to safety. He swallowed hard as he lifted his older brother.

_Shell, I don't wanna hurt him..._

Raphael cast another glance down the alley to make certain no one would see them, and then threw one leg over the side of the dumpster. He shoved off the side-wall with his other leg, grunting in irritation as he felt the sharp edge slicing into his thigh. He ignored the pain and kept going, shaking slightly under the exertion it took to lift his own weight combined with Leonardo's out of the precarious position.

By the time he hit the pavement, he was grateful both that Leo hadn't stirred, and that they hadn't bothered to completely replace the grating. Raphael crouched near the ground, and took a moment to consider his options. They wouldn't fit through together, so he was going to have to settle for dropping his brother a short distance. He lowered Leonardo down as far as he could reach, before letting him go the last couple of feet on his own.

The red-masked turtle winced. _Sorry, bro._

He pulled the grating back into place behind him as he climbed down, and dropped to his knees by Leonardo. Raphael carefully turned him back over to get a better look at him. The faint light of day that penetrated through the grating revealed just enough of his injuries to disturb Raphael. It was obvious Leonardo had come under a brutal attack; and he wasn't equipped to do a single thing for him. Furious anger was just starting to boil over as he clenched both fists in a death grip.

_I'd rather have the punks who did this in front of me right now_, he seethed. _They wouldn't be able to walk straight for a year._

As he bent further over Leonardo, he suddenly picked up on the difficulty his brother was having in breathing.

"No...no, Leo, don't do this to me. Don't you dare do this to me!" Then-_Sensei. He'll know what to do - he has to!_

Raphael took a deep breath to compose the rising panic, and pulled out his phone. The rings seemed to last twice as long as they ordinarily would have while he waited for his Master to answer.

"Yes, hello?"

"Sensei, I've got Leo!" he exclaimed. "We're underground, but he's hurt bad, not awake...I think he's having a hard time breathing."

"What has Donatello said?"

"He ain't here, Master, he had to bolt. Somebody was coming, and he went to distract them."

Raphael heard Splinter's grunt of disapproval as if it had echoed from miles away.

"Can you get your brother to me, Raphael? We are going to have to deal with this one step at a time."

"I'll head your way, Sensei, and I'll make sure Leo gets back to the Den. Then I'll go after Donny!"

Raphael hung up the phone with a tremor, and reached to lift his brother again. As he started moving, he could feel Leonardo's legs partially dragging across the pavement, and he stopped to correct his brother's position. When he shifted him this time, Leonardo moaned very softly, making Raphael wince again.

"Stay with me, Leo. Don't you go anywhere. I'm gonna get you home, and you'll be all right. You just have to stay with me."

The red-masked turtle tried to ignore the fiery pain lancing through his left leg, focusing all his energy on getting Leonardo moved as quickly as possible. Concern for Donatello was fighting for dominance too.

_I'm only one guy; I can't be in two places at once! Darn you, Donny! I'm gonna kick your shell all the way to Brooklyn!_

Raphael hadn't been keeping track of how much ground he was covering, and had no idea how much further it would be until he could reunite with his Master and Michelangelo. He felt Leonardo slipping in his grasp, and halted to adjust his hold. His brother groaned more loudly this time, prompting Raphael to carefully set him down. He was started to see Leonardo's dark eyes partially open.

"Stay awake, Leo!" The words lept to his tongue unbidden.

_If he's awake, then I know he's not dying._

He supported Leonardo's neck, gently raising his head a couple of inches. To his dismay, his brother had already closed his eyes again.

"No! C'mon, you have to stay awake!"

His brother made a somewhat garbled response, but his eyes remained firmly shut.

"Leo?" Raphael shook him as hard as he dared, but he couldn't get him to make another sound. "_Darn it_!"

With a cry of frustration he drew Leonardo up, and forced himself to begin moving. Guilt was beginning to weigh down his shoulders more than his brother was, making every step feel heavier than it should have. His breathing increased as anxiety continued to build.

A shout that resounded through the tunnel ahead of him had Raphael instantly slowing down.

"_Mi-key_! I'm coming!" Raphael could hear feet rushing toward him, right before his orange-masked brother dashed around the corner. Splinter was behind him, moving noiselessly despite his haste.

"Let me see him, Raphael!" Splinter urged.

The red-masked turtle relinquished Leonardo to his Master's grasp, and the rat probed his frame with deft fingers. Splinter was silent for a terrifying sixty seconds, before looking up at Raphael and Michelangelo.

"The two of you must get him back to the Den with all haste."

"Sensei, if Mike can handle Leo-"

"No, Raphael, you are not running back to the surface to seek out Donatello on your own. We do not even know if he is in danger yet."

Raphael's shoulders slumped as he gazed down at his older brother.

_What a mess. Could this day get any worse?_

____

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***More you say? Thanks for reading and reviewing. You're in the driver's seat of this fic. ;)**


	7. Need

*** As I type this tonight, I'm listening to tree branches cracking and falling under the pressure of all the built-up ice from freezing rain, and the power has been phasing a little bit. If I disappear on you, it's not because I don't love you. Just remember that. ;)**

* * *

Michelangelo sank into the couch with a heavy sigh, and stared up at the ceiling. Despite getting an "all clear" phone call from Donny, he still felt like charging after him to the surface. It was taking longer for him to return than it should have. Splinter had long ago sent Raphael upstairs to get showered from his dumpster dive, and had only accepted Michelangelo's help in the beginning stages of getting Leonardo cleaned up. Now the orange-masked turtle was waiting alone for something else to happen. The Den felt unnaturally cold and darker than usual, bringing an onset of sudden goose bumps.

_Shell, it's still summer, isn't it? It was sure hot enough last night, at least before the clouds came in..._

Michelangelo closed his eyes as memories of the night before washed over his senses.

_The last thing I said to Leo...geez, that _better _not be the last thing I get to say to him._

The night had started out well between the four of them, with more combined laughter than they'd experienced in weeks. There had been a real workout of course - Leo always made sure of that. But even Fearless had relaxed after a couple of hours, and given in to the eventual round of Ninja Tag. For some reason the game had been short-lived, and they'd ended up searching for something else to play.

_I was bored...and Donny always likes playing teams more than the individual stuff, _he reminded himself.

Capture the Flag also happened to be one of his purple-masked brother's all time favorite games, making it a natural suggestion for Mike to bring up. It didn't hurt that he and Donatello usually killed at the exercises that relied heavily on teamwork. Their strong partnership was a force to be reckoned with.

Everything _started_ with the two of them soundly defeating the older turtles, and ended with Donatello flying the coop.

_Donny's right - it was stupid. That fight was over _nothing_, and it never should have ended that way. But they had no right to come after Don like that, when he didn't even do anything. If they're gonna fight, I wish they could focus on only tearing each_ other _apart. But Donny still wants to blame himself for it. How is that fair?_

In the blink of an eye, Raphael's hot temper came back to mind.

_"You're ridiculous, Leo! You can't accept that someone else's ideas might be better than yours, not even when you're playing a game!"_

_"I don't call throwing all reason out the window an 'idea', Raph! This is no big deal; we're not even training. Why can't you just let it go?" _Leonardo had tried to diffuse Raphael, but the red-masked turtle wasn't in the mood.

"_You're too controlling to _ever _do anything someone else's way - and I ain't the only one who thinks so_!" Raphael had stated triumphantly.

When Raphael's gaze had landed on Donatello, Mike was completely confused.

"_Tell 'im what you told me, Donny_," he'd demanded.

The look in Donatello's eyes had reminded Michelangelo of a deer caught in headlights. "_I...Raph, don't. Can't you guys give it a rest_?"

Raphael made a scoffing sound. "_For once in your life, grow a backbone, Don. You tell Leo what you told me_."

"_I don't want any part of this. Stop trying to drag me into it!" _There had been more force behind Donatello's voice that time.

"_He thinks you're controlling too, Leo, and that you never understand anything_," Raphael had finally volunteered.

"_That isn't...I didn't say_..." Donatello had faltered, stumbling backwards a step under Leonardo's glare. "_That isn't what I told you, Raph_!"

"_What _did _you tell him_?" Leo had demanded. "_I want to hear it to my face. You think you can go around blasting me behind my back, and that it's never going to come back to bite you? Was it only you and Raph, or did Mikey get in on the fun too? I want the truth, Donny, no more bull! If you've got something to say about me, then speak up!"_

_"I don't...I mean, I didn't..." _The purple-masked turtle had appeared to be so flustered that he couldn't put a real sentence together.

"_Aw, c'mon, Genius_." The title rolled off Raphael's tongue scornfully. "_It ain't that hard to tell Leo off_."

"_You've got a lot of words in that big head, Donny. Start using them_!" Leonardo had challenged.

"_Guys, knock it off! Why do you have to go and ruin everything_?" Mike had interjected himself, even though he felt like it was too late to stop the argument.

"_Shut it, Mikey, let Donny defend _himself_ for a change. He's gotta learn sometime, doesn't he? He could take a few lessons from Fearless here. Leo doesn't need anybody except himself_." Raphael had made the last statement as if Leonardo wasn't even there.

"_What I don't need are brothers who gang up on me behind my back_!" The blue-masked turtle's voice rose further, and then his burning gaze had switched back to Donatello. "_Just tell me what you want from me, Donny. What do you _want?"

"_I want you to stop fighting, or at least leave me the shell out of it_!" Donatello had replied without hesitation.

Without another word the purple-masked turtle had vaulted over the side of the building they were perched upon, and rapidly began descending the fire escape.

An unrepeatable curse had leaped to Mike's mouth as he fixed both Leonardo and Raphael with a glare, before yelling after Donatello to wait for him. Raphael had caught up with them a few minutes later underground, and they'd traveled the rest of the way to the Den in silence. Mike had never even questioned where Leonardo was, or cared for that matter.

_I kind of thought Leo _didn't_ need any of us. _

The sound of something by the door jolted Michelangelo out of thought, and he turned his head to see Donatello coming into the Den. His brother was completely covered in mud, but didn't appear to be injured.

"Don? Are you okay? What _happened?"_

Donny shook his head as he rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead. "It's a long story. I'll tell you everything later, but right now I need to get out of these clothes so I can help with Leo."

The purple-masked turtle managed to take one more step, before a green and red blur charged down the stairs. Before Michelangelo could move, Raphael had Donatello pinned against the doorframe.

"You stupid shell-head! You _ever_ do that again, and I swear I'm gonna hunt you down like a dog! Then when I find you I'll...I'll..."

Even as Raphael's tirade broke off, Michelangelo was poised to leap on his brother's back and pry him off Donatello.

Strangely enough, Raph's anger already seemed to be dissipating, and his grip on Donatello weakened.

"Genius, just...don't do that again." Raphael's arms went around a shocked Donatello. The older turtle didn't appear to notice the muddy transfer he was picking up from Donny's sodden clothes for a few seconds, and then chuckled in spite of everything. "Dang, Don, what'd you do with yourself?"

"There was this short-cut that..." Donatello trailed off suddenly as he stared at something over Raphael's shoulder, and Mike turned his head to see their Sensei standing behind them.

The purple-masked turtle bowed his head. "_Sumimasen_, Sensei."

"Are you hurt?" Splinter asked evenly.

"No, Master."

"I need your help with your brother, Donatello. Get cleaned up, and be quick."


	8. Precious

Splinter was doing everything in his power to maintain a calm atmosphere, and make his son as comfortable as possible. He frowned at the heat that was already radiating from Leonardo's forehead.

_This cannot mean anything good._

The rat wrung out a washcloth thoroughly before applying it to Leonardo's head again, breathing in the fragrance of the herbs that he hoped would ease some of the pain that the turtle was experiencing. His head remained bowed over Leonardo until he sensed Donatello's presence at the door.

"Come, my son," he told him.

Donatello's brown eyes were uncertain. "Sensei...I_ am _sorry. In the moment-"

"Now is not the time," Splinter interrupted gently. "Our minds must be together inside _this_ moment."

His gaze remained fixed on Donatello, as the turtle got his first real glimpse of Leonardo. Donatello's mouth moved as if to form words, but no sound came out for a few seconds.

"How could..." Donatello was at a loss for words as he waged war with emotion. "What are we looking at, Master?" he asked after another beat of silence.

"I feel at least four rib fractures, in addition to a dislocation in his right elbow. There is serious strain in his left arm as well; it is almost as if..."

"He was struggling," Donny filled in, as his fingers hovered over Leonardo's right wrist. "Ligature marks. He was restrained at some point."

Donatello bent further over the bed, probing his brother's injuries with what was already a remarkably knowing eye. Splinter said nothing while his son performed his own examination. He was proud of Donatello and his ability to control his emotions in face of Leonardo's condition, but it pained Splinter at the same time.

_He should not have to see such things, or take part in treating them. Donatello is too young to carry this kind of weight. Is it any wonder he feels compelled to take so much responsibility on himself?_

Splinter saw Donatello's eyes widen as he probed Leonardo's neck,

"Is that..." Donatello didn't finish the question, as his voice took on an indignant tone. "These are burns! Why would they...How does someone _do _that, Sensei?"

"My son," Splinter said softly. "If it is too much, please step away."

"I can't," Donatello said faintly. "His neck has to be infected...and some of these other wounds probably are too."

Splinter nodded gravely. "His blood pressure has dropped only in the last hour, and his temperature is rising."

Donatello exhaled sharply. "I think we should lance several of his injuries, just to be safe. I can take a blood sample to verify that we're dealing with bacteria in the bloodstream, but it's going to take a couple of days to find out anything definitive. I could go ahead and start sterilizing some instruments, Master. The sooner we get on this the better, especially if he's still out of it."

"I agree, my son, but this is not a burden you have to bear. I know that you are more than capable, but I cannot shake the feeling that I am doing you some harm by the amount of exposure you are receiving."

"Sensei, he's my brother. I _want_ to help him. It would be worse if you didn't allow me to do anything."

Splinter locked eyes with Donatello for a long moment. When his son didn't falter, the rat nodded. "You may begin preparing the instruments we will use. I will take a closer look to see where we need to focus our attention first."

About ten minutes of silence had passed between the pair, when Leonardo stirred on the bed. Splinter immediately reached for the turtle's hand, drawing it off the mattress.

"Leonardo. My son?"

Leonardo didn't open his eyes, but his head rolled slightly in the direction of Splinter's voice.

"Master..." The word came up with a groan that slowly built in intensity, and then as they had called him when they were small children, "Chi Chi..."

Splinter gripped the turtle's hand stronger, and nodded at Donatello, who was now hovering close by. "Go, my son, and finish the sterilizing of what we need. I will stay with him," he told the purple-masked turtle, and turned back to his oldest.

The rat bit his lip in consternation as he drew Leonardo's hand up against his own chest. When their training had first began, and then again after the first night that his two oldest had engaged someone on the surface, Splinter had realized that the probability of injury existed. This wasn't the first time that one of them had come home bearing war wounds from their activity on the streets, but they _were _some of the worst injuries he'd encountered with them thus far.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize that Leonardo had opened dark eyes, and was staring up at him.

"Sensei?" the turtle stated weakly. "Are you mad?"

Splinter released a trembling sigh. "No, my son, I am not angry with you. But do not try to move yet, Leonardo," he admonished, as the turtle made a serious attempt to sit up.

"I'm sorry, Master. It was an accident, I-"

"Shh, hush, Leonardo. I don't need an explanation right now. I want you to rest, not to even try thinking about anything."

The rat's fingers gently brushed Leonardo's eye-lids, as if to lull him back to sleep. The young turtle's chest shuddered for a moment before he released a somewhat deeper breath, relaxing at ease under his Master's touch.

"Don't leave me, Chi Chi," he murmured, his momentary lucidity already slipping away.

Splinter shook his head firmly, even though he knew Leonardo wouldn't see it now. "Never, my son, I'll be waiting right here for you. Don't be afraid to rest. Let go, and when you wake up, you'll feel better than you do right now."

He didn't so much as remove his hand from the turtle's head, until Leonardo's breathing sounded easier, and the lines of pain had slightly retreated from the young one's face. Then Splinter glanced over at Donatello across the room.

"I fear his ribcage is going to need to be wrapped, but I think we should wait awhile yet. It may help with the pain, but it will also make breathing deeply more difficult for him than it already is. Are you nearly ready, Donatello?"

Donatello nodded, and gave Splinter a serious look. "Sensei...thank you, for not treating me like a child. It means a lot to me to be involved in this aspect."

"I know that it does, Donatello, and I am grateful for both your compassion and skill. I only worry that I am sometimes feeding into the growing sense of responsibility that you choose to bear."

The purple-masked turtle broke eye contact. "I know that I can't control everything, Master. But when there's something that I _can_ do...It's hard to sit back and stay idle. Tonight was one of the first times that I simply reacted without even thinking about it. We were in danger of discovery, so I did what I felt like I had to."

"There is a time and place for acting on instinct, my son, and there is also a time for waiting. A few seconds can be the difference between life and death."

"That was _why_ I acted so quickly, Master."

"You misunderstand me, Donatello. In your haste to protect your brothers, you did not even allow a moment to properly confer with Raphael. You were a _team_, my son, I sent the two of you together. To break that partnership without a consensus is not the way I have taught you."

"No, Sensei."

"It is an honorable thing to act on behalf of others, but you cannot discount your own life either. You knew very well that Raphael would not choose to leave Leonardo in that condition. In that case, you also knew that whatever danger existed on the other side of that alley, you would be facing it alone. Life is far too precious to risk without a second thought, my son."


	9. With You

The sensible side of April told her to give the turtles some space, and not to immediately run underground when they communicated that Leonardo had been found. The voice in her head won out for a couple of hours, but as the evening wore on, the woman couldn't take any more of sitting around. As she approached their entrance underground, April became even more certain of the decision she'd made.

With her insistent knock, the door jarred open to reveal a surprised Michelangelo.

"Ape, why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"Because I didn't want to be told to stay home. Where is everyone? How's your brother?"

"Sensei and Donny got Leo in the Lab, and Raph is...I don't know what _he's _doing. C'mon in though; I can entertain you if nothing else." There was a forced cheerfulness in Mike's expression.

"How is Leonardo?" April tried asking again.

"Don't really know, April. He's hurt bad...and Donny said they're fighting wicked infection." The orange-masked turtle's shoulders hunched slightly as he motioned her toward the couch. "Can I get you anything? Did you eat? I know you were out all day looking for Leo. Shell, you're the reason we _found_ him."

The red-haired woman shook her head. "I don't think I could eat right now, and I didn't come down here so you could serve me, Mikey. I'd rather just _be_ with you, if that makes any sense."

Mike's posture relaxed slightly. "Yeah, I get it. Who wants to be alone anyway? With the exception of Raph I mean," he added under his breath. He looked a little sorry for saying it, but before he could excuse the jab, the door to the Lab popped open.

April raised a hand in greeting toward Donatello, and Mike instantly sat up further on the couch.

"Hey, April. How long have you been here?" Don asked.

"Not long, I just got here. Don't let me slow you down if you were in the middle of something."

Donatello nodded apologetically, and turned to Mike. "We could use that ice now, bro."

April enjoyed the relieved look that came over Michelangelo's face as he jumped to his feet.

"I'm on it, Donny!"

_He's desperate for something to do, _she thought inwardly.

April caught the purple-masked turtle's eye again. "It's not going to be a problem if I stick around, is it?"

"Of course not, April. You're not an outsider here. You know that, don't you?"

She nodded. "I just don't want to be in the way."

Donatello shook his head firmly. "That's crazy talk. You being here, it kind of makes things _easier_. You have a calming affect."

"Do you know how Raph is? Mike hinted that he hasn't been around. Is he taking this pretty hard?"

"I'm not sure; I only saw him for a couple of minutes when I got home. First he was royally ticked, and then he was just glad to see me. After that I went to clean up and help Sensei, so I haven't seen him since." Donatello gave her a somewhat hopeful smile. "He's not likely to bite _your_ head off, so if you have the hankering to go look for him..."

April got to her feet. "Now that sounds like something I could do."

Donatello returned to the Lab, and the woman began the search in the most obvious of places. April didn't hear anything coming from the dojo, but she decided to check the room anyway. The space was dark and empty, as if it had been long forgotten. She headed for the stairs next, and lightly ascended them to the second floor.

The hallway was quiet, and she couldn't see sign of any lights on except for the bathroom at the end. Before she could walk that direction, Raphael emerged from the room into the hall. His frame stiffened severely as he discovered her in the darkened space.

"Dang, April, you startled me. I had no clue you were gonna be there."

"Seems like I turned the tables on you for once," she offered.

He gave the woman a smirk, but April was more distracted by the way he carefully shifted his weight off his left leg. Raphael was also still wearing a pair of dark sweat-pants, a detail that struck her as being odd.

_The guys don't like wearing clothes more than they have to._

"April?"

She snapped back to attention at his voice, and realized she'd been staring. "Sorry. Are you all right, Raph?"

"As good as I _can_ be with my bro down there like that."

"Do you want to come join us?" April asked softly. "I couldn't take the empty apartment, so I thought I'd bug you guys instead."

"More like Mike will be bugging _you_," Raphael clarified. "Don't worry, April, I won't leave you alone with the Chucklehead."

April laughed, her momentary concern for the red-masked turtle slipping away as he took a normal step without any obvious difficulty. She trotted down the steps ahead of him, and settled into the couch while Raphael selected a chair.

"About these Latin Kings, April..."

"It was broad daylight," she informed him. "I never would have attempted it otherwise."

"How'd you get 'em to talk? Do I really want to know?"

"I don't know if you'll want the whole story or not, Raph, but getting details from them was as simple as asking questions about the swords. The guy was pretty proud of himself. If I could have multiplied myself by twenty, we all would beat the living daylights out of him."

Raphael laughed dangerously. "There will still be time for that, April, believe you me. They're gonna pay one way or another."

April shook her head distastefully. "I wouldn't mind being there to watch this one. I never though I'd be able to enjoy seeing something like that, but hearing them laugh about what they did to Leo...If I wasn't so scared, I would have strangled them."

Raphael's amber eyes regarded her keenly. "What happened with those punks? You just had a nice conversation, and they told you what you wanted to know? There's gotta be more to it than that."

April cleared her throat with serious discomfort. "Well, it didn't hurt that the leader was completely into me," she tried to say lightly.

The red-masked turtle didn't look amused.

"It got him talking." She shrugged. "He was eager to show off, hence, I found out where Leo could have been. At the end of the day, that's the important thing, isn't it?"

"Did he make any kind of pass at you?" Raphael demanded. "Did he threaten you?"

April hesitated, even though she knew it would only confirm his suspicions. "I wasn't in a good spot," she admitted. "But a very nice off duty police officer gave me a hand...and I got away from them just fine."

The turtle actually glared at her for a couple of seconds, then shook his head. "Shell, April, what if the cop hadn't been there? You woulda been in a lot of trouble!"

April opened her mouth, but couldn't think of a way to refute it. "You're right - I took a stupid risk. At the same time, how was I supposed to walk away after seeing them mess around with Leonardo's katanas?"

Raphael's fingers gripped the sides of his chair until it looked like they were turning white. "I'm gonna find these guys. They're gonna answer for this, April, if it's the last thing I do."

* * *

*** Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'm having fun with this, and I hope you are too.**


	10. Confiding

Donatello's eyes slid open and flicked over to the clock on the wall of the Lab, then looked for his Sensei.

"Master?" he asked questioningly.

Splinter appeared to be unmoved from the last time that he'd seen him, sitting at Leonardo's side.

"It's almost 8AM," Donatello commented. "Do you want to get some sleep?"

Splinter didn't act like he heard him at first, but then glanced over. "His fever holds steady. It had decreased by half a degree or so, only to rise once more."

Donatello got to his feet off the low cot. "I'll watch him, Father. I won't leave his side. You have to sleep sometime too, don't you?"

The rat sighed softly. "I know you can take good care of your brother, Donatello. Your resourcefulness has already done more for him than I could have."

Donny followed Splinter's gaze over to the refurbished IV unit that the turtle had set up for Leonardo hours ago, in the hope of keeping him hydrated.

"I don't think anything is more important than what you do for him, Master," he replied evenly.

Splinter gave him a thin smile, and tapped a hand across Donatello's shell. "Thank you, my son, but you cannot discount how important your talents are to this family."

"I have a good teacher."

"Even a good teacher cannot take all the credit for his student."

"I'll let you know if anything changes, Father. Don't you think you should get some rest now?"

There was a defeated look in the rat's eye as he nodded. Donatello exhaled softly as Splinter left the room.

_I know he didn't want to leave, but he's far too sensitive to sleep in here the way I did._

Donatello had been surprised that Splinter had agreed to taking shifts with him to begin with. He'd only slept for about five hours, but he knew that his father was more worn out than he was.

_I don't think he got much the night before last either, and he sure didn't rest during the day. He has to be exhausted._

Donatello broke out of contemplation over his Sensei to focus on the more serious matter at hand. He couldn't help wincing when he felt Leonardo's forehead, even though he expected the heat. The new sheen on sweat across his brother's skin wasn't an encouraging sight either.

_How high can his fever really afford to go? It's the body's natural defense against bacteria, but it could get to a dangerous level. He won't be any better off if the fever leaves him with brain damage._

Donatello rolled his eyes. _Way to think positively, Don. At least he's home, which is better than __where he was 24 hours ago._

The purple-masked turtle took a moment to check the flow of saline solution that was running through the IV, and calculated how much longer Leonardo had before he would need to change it. Then Donatello reached for the bowl that Splinter had been using, and tested the temperature of the water.

_Feels too cold now._

He carried the bowl over to the sink, and refilled it with lukewarm water. As he was reaching for another packet of his Master's herbs, he heard a squeal from the door. Michelangelo peered inside the room, with heavy blue eyes that didn't look like he'd had any sleep either.

"Hi." Mike's voice sounded so weak that it pained Donatello to listen to.

"Hey, bro," Donny answered.

"How is he?" Mike nodded toward Leonardo.

"No change, Mike. This fever is going to take awhile to break."

"What about ice? Do you need any more?"

"Not for now - we can't keep it on him non-stop. You've been a big help with that though, Mikey. Thanks."

"It's nice to think I can handle freezing water if nothing else." Michelangelo grinned, but it quickly faded. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Sensei made me. We have to be able to take turns." Donatello's eyes traveled back to his prone brother, and he picked up the bowl to take over to him. After adding the herbs to the water, he gave Mike another lingering glance, as he contemplated telling him something.

"What, Don?'

That was his ever perceptive younger brother - at least as far as _Donatello _was concerned. Over the years, their partnership in the ring had translated into a close relationship between the two brothers. No one was capable of reading Donatello better than the orange-masked turtle.

"There's something...I'm going to tell you something, Mike, but you have to keep it to yourself for right now."

"Yeah, sure, Donny. You know you can trust _me_."

The purple-masked turtle took a sharp breath. "I saw the guys who did this to, Leo...some of them anyway."

Donny wasn't sure Mike's eyes could get any wider.

"_When_, last night? Are they the ones you had to distract?"

"No," he answered quickly. "That was just a couple of guys in uniform; I think they worked at the restaurant. It wasn't hard to make myself look suspicious, especially when I ran from them. Losing them down the street was easy. My next thought was to head underground, but then I got...sidetracked.

"I saw some guys on the opposite side of the street, and these little alarm bells went off right away. They belonged to a gang. I didn't plan on stopping - I was going to get the shell out of there. But for some reason, I couldn't move. I watched them cross the road, and head down the block toward the restauraunt.

"I um...I followed them, from a distance. They sure weren't in a hurry. They stopped right in front of the alley and just stood there, like they were waiting for someone. I heard a shout behind me, it sounded like Spanish. I got out of the way, and a couple more guys came running past me. That's when I saw it."

"_What_, Donny?"

"The outline of a sword, underneath one of the newcomer's shirt. He'd tried to cover it up, but he couldn't hide the shape underneath. I knew I needed to walk away, but I didn't. I got closer. I wanted to hear what they were saying, so I waited around the corner of the next building and listened.

"The one with the sword was describing a dispute to the others. Seems someone else had claimed Leo's other weapon, when he wanted _both_ swords for himself. Then he said..." Donatello took a shaky breath to compose himself. "He said if he ran the freak through with his sword , the other guy wouldn't be able to contest his claim on both blades. They came back to finish Leo off, Mikey."

Donatello trembled with anger as he continued. "I wanted to kill him. In my mind, I could see myself leaping out of hiding, and destroying him with my bare hands. I even tried to calculate if I could actually take all seven of them without causing a fuss."

Donny shook his head. "I knew I couldn't do anything to them without getting hurt in the process, or attracting attention. I stayed long enough to get a good look at the speaker. I considered taking a picture, but I never got that far. Someone was coming from the other direction, and they _saw_ me. Some ninja, huh?"

Donatello felt himself coloring even as Mike paled. "I had to book it out of there, and that only brought all of them down on me."

"Donny!"

The purple-masked turtle swallowed. "It wasn't that hard to outrun them. I cut through a construction yard on the next block, and jammed myself under one of those earth movers. I probably hung out in the mud under that thing for about fifteen minutes, just to be sure I'd lost them."

Donatello unconsciously clenched his fists. "I felt like a coward the whole time. They were right there in my reach, and I didn't do _anything_."

Michelangelo's arm came around his shoulder. "I know it doesn't feel like it, bro, but running was the right thing to do. There's a time and place to fight, and that wasn't it. Besides...if you'd destroyed them by yourself, Raphy would have had to kick your shell for hogging them."

Donny managed a smile. "That's nothing compared to what _Sensei_ might do if he finds out."


	11. Lucid

The sight of Leonardo's violent tremor disturbed Donatello.

_His fever can't still be rising, can it?_

The purple-masked turtle slipped the thermometer under his brother's arm, and held it in place until the device signaled that a reading was complete. Donatello swallowed as he read the numbers, and adjusted the actual temperature for the manner he'd taken it in.

_That means he's above 105 degrees for the first time._

Donatello was tempted to immediately seek Splinter out, but there was nothing more his Sensei could do than what was already being done. He wrung out the rag to apply to Leonardo's forehead again, and was surprised when his brother's eyelids flickered.

The turtle mumbled something that Donatello didn't understand, before one intelligible word escaped.

"Sensei?"

"No, it's Donny. Master isn't far away," he reassured him.

"Donny?" Leonardo repeated as if he'd never heard the name before. "Donny." There was a note of recognition the second time, but he still sounded like he was completely out of it. "I know why you don't like me."

"What?"

"It's okay," Leo returned weakly. "I know."

"That's not true, Leo." Donatello steadied his voice with difficulty. "You're my brother, and I'll_ always _love you."

"I push you...everyone. I want you to be good, but I can't..."

Donatello couldn't help wondering if Leonardo was lucid enough to make sense, but it was worth a try. "What are you talking about, Leo?"

His brother trembled again, and the vacant look in his eyes appeared to piercing through the ceiling. "I ask things from you that I can't...because I'm not..."

"You're not what?"

"I'm not Sensei. I never will be. I can't do it, Donny, I think he made a mistake."

"A mistake?"

"I'm not him."

"Leo, why do you have to be like Sensei?"

"I'm disappointing him. You have no idea what it's like. Sometimes I wish he hadn't picked me...sometimes I wish I could just be free. But that would disappoint him more. I'm messing this up, Donny. No one can stand me, not even you."

"Leo, you're a good leader," Don insisted. "You're too hard on yourself. No one expects you to be Sensei."

"When can I go home?" Leonardo mumbled.

Donatello rested the rag more firmly against his head. "You _are_ home, Leo."

"No, it's too cold, and the bees are stinging me. Can you make them stop?"

Donatello lightly restrained Leonardo when the turtle tried to lift his immobilized arm. "I'm sorry, Leo. I'm not going to let anything hurt you, okay? I'm right here, and I won't leave you. Try to get some sleep."

His brother murmured something else under his breath, and rolled his neck painfully. "Don't let her...she's not right." Leonardo clenched his jaw, grimacing outwardly. "'s burning, make her stop."

Donatello blinked back tears angrily at his brother's suffering, even as he inwardly pleaded for Leonardo to fall back asleep. His breathing slackened for a few seconds, nearly sending Don into panic mode. He probed Leonardo until he felt his chest falter, and exhaled sharply.

The purple-masked turtle slumped back down in his desk chair with a groan.

_C'mon, Leo, hang in there. You're going to get through this._

_

* * *

_

_Flickering, going out. One moment the comfort of his brother's hand was resting on his forehead, and in the next it was ripped cruelly away, leaving him to face the bitter chill by himself._

Why on earth is it so cold? It doesn't make any sense...

_Darkness swirled around him as if it had a life of it's own, threatening to consume him. He would have be__en happy to let it, so that he didn't have to feel anything._

_The lapse of activity was short-lived, as the vision of a lonely street barely lit by overhanging lamps entered his mind. He was passing the bleak lighting at a breakneck pace, still trying to burn through his anger._

_It was a scream that distracted him, forcing the blue-masked turtle to pull up short on the roof-top. As he peered over the edge he saw them - three young men had formed a semi-circle around a young woman who reminded him vaguely of a scared rabbit. Her slender shoulders quaked with fear, dark hair covering her face so that he couldn't make out her real features._

_In the time it took her to raise her arms out of reflex to protect herself, Leonardo was scanning the street to see if anyone else was in sight. When he didn't see anyone, he swiftly descended over the fire escape, landing nimbly on the ground without making a sound._

_Leonardo broke the circle of young men like a wraith, enjoying their surprised gasps at his arrival. His sweeping front kick knocked one of boys into a second on his left, and both of them tumbled into the street. He caught the fist the third aimed at his chin, wrenching him by the arm before hurling him over a parked car._

_The doors to the van suddenly flung open, and Leonardo blinked with his own surprise as several more young men descended on the sidewalk. He feigned away from the knife blade that thrust toward him, smirking as he caught the assailant by the wrist._

I don't think he really wants to cross steel with me.

_The retreating scream of the girl made him whip his head around. She was fleeing, and the young men were more interested in chasing her than fighting him. Leonardo grunted in irritation as he took off after the group, and began overtaking the boys._

_The turtle shoved the young men out of the way as he passed, but pulled up short a second time when he didn't see the girl._

Maybe she actually got away.

_That hope was dashed when he heard her muffled crying, coming from an alley a few more feet away. She had backed into a dead end; one of the worst positions she could have possibly managed to get herself into._

_Leonardo mentally reminded himself that he shouldn't be getting irritated with the victim. He strode into the darkness to take a defensive stance a couple of feet in front of her, and whirled around as young men filled the entrance to the alley._

No more playing around.

_The turtle drew both blades and glared threateningly at the strangers._

_"You're going to want to drop those." One of them snickered._

_"You don't have the guts to try me out?" Leonardo challenged. "Then get lost."_

_"Why would we leave when we've got you exactly where we want you?"_

_"You think so?" Leonardo snorted. "I can put up a lot more of a fight than you've bargained for."_

_"We're not interested in fighting you," the speaker returned. "That's why you're putting your weapons down, Samaritan. You're the most interesting one we've met, but you're going to go down the hardest."_

Samaritan? Why is that familiar?

_"Why would I lay my weapons down?" Leonardo returned._

_A blunt object jammed into the back of his head, actually succeeding in startling him._

How did someone get behind_-_

_He didn't have time to finish the thought before he heard the sound of a safety being released._

_"Because your life means nothing to me," a feminine voice cooed in reply. "Drop your weapons, or I will end this quickly myself."_

_The turtle balked rather than obeying, tightening his grip on the katanas. He was rapidly trying to conjure up a maneuver to get out from underneath the gun without being killed, when a second pistol was shoved into his face._

_The weight of the barrell against the back of his head and the gun he was now staring down made it difficult to argue the point any further. The instant he lowered his arms, two of them were practically on top of him, dragging Leonardo to the ground._

_He struggled out of instinct initially, but the pressure of the gun on the back of his head only increased. Leonardo shook with anger, growling loudly as the flattened him against the pavement._

_"What do you want?" he demanded._

_He heard a chuckle._

_"We'll get to that. There's no real rush, is there? Please enjoy your nap while you're waiting."_

_"What?"_

_An explosion of pain across the back of his head cut off any answer that the punk might have provided._


	12. Busted

It was thirst that drew Raphael awake. The red-masked turtle sat up in the recliner, rubbing bleary eyes as he wondered what time it was. With a soft groan he released the foot rest on the chair, and began to work his way upright.

The report of pain in his injured limb made him hiss under his breath, and pause in the attempt to rise. Raphael took a deep breath and let it out slowly before carefully maneuvering onto his feet. Both legs felt practically worthless as he staggered toward the kitchen.

When he walked through the door, Mike instantly glanced over from the stove.

"Hey, Sleepin' Beauty. I _thought_ that might get you up," he cracked.

"What might get me up?"

"Food," Mike stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Raphael stared past him at the pot he was stirring on the stove, and shook his head. "Nah, sorry, Mikey. I'm not really hungry."

Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he noticed April sitting at the kitchen table. The woman had her head cocked toward him.

"Are you all right, Raph?" she asked. "You don't look like you slept well, and it's kind of late."

Raphael's gaze shifted to the clock on the stove, and he was surprised to see that it was mid-afternoon. "I'm okay, April, just thirsty."

She got to her feet to approach him. "You're okay?" April sounded incredulous. "Is that why you're sweating? Did you fit in a workout before you came in here?"

"I am not." Confused irritation sprung to the surface of his mind immediately.

"Yes, you are," April insisted. "Would you come sit down please?"

Raphael was already on the defensive now, and swiped a hand across his forehead just to prove-no, there _was_ moisture there.

"Raph, come sit down," she repeated.

_Shell, what does she sound so worried for?_

"I'll get you some water, bro," Mike volunteered. "Why don't you take a load off with April?"

"Why are you two treating me like I'm broken?" Raphael scowled.

"Why are _you _being so stubborn?" April demanded. "You don't look right, Raph. You're really pale."

"Okay, okay." Raphael shuffled toward the table, hesitating in his step when it felt like his legs would give out on him. He stretched both arms toward the table to support himself and exhaled sharply.

"Raph!" Mike was behind him in the flash of an instant.

"I ain't a cripple, Mikey," he growled.

"You're not _okay_ either," the orange-masked turtle insisted, yanking a chair over to him.

As much as Raphael wanted to prove that he didn't need the help, he was still grateful to sink into it. "Would you guys _quit_ looking at me like that? It's no big deal; my leg just hurts, all right?"

"_That's_ why you're still wearing your sweats!" Mike said accusingly.

"Take it easy, shell-head. Does it look like I'm dying over here?"

"Which leg? The left one?" April asked knowingly.

"How did you figure?"

"You didn't hide it as well as you think you did. Let me see it, Raph."

He rolled his eyes but didn't fight as she reached for his pant leg. When the woman lightly fingered his makeshift wrap from the night before, he sheepishly looked at the floor.

"You did this yourself I take it. Your Sensei and Donny don't know you were injured," April suggested.

"No - but I spent a lot of time cleaning it out."

"Raph, that isn't always enough, and you know it! Why did you hide this from them?"

It was Raphael's turn to look incredulous. "You have to ask? Wait, what are you doing?"

April gave him a look as she loosened the bandage. "This wrap isn't even good any more, Raph, you've bled through it. It should have been changed hours ago." When the woman looked back at his leg, she gasped.

"What, April? It can't be that bad. I only nicked it on the edge of that freakin' dumpster. If you-AH, _stop_!"

She wasn't gripping his leg very hard, but the pressure still felt like she was sending ten inch needles through his thigh.

"If it's not that bad, why does it hurt that much?" she asked.

Raphael gave her a dirty look. "Y'know, you're kind of annoying me right now."

"You've earned it," April shot back.

Mike nodded. "She's got a point, bro. That thing looks infected."

"What, like you're an expert?"

"If you listened to Sensei and Donny every now and then, you'd see it too. Sit here and don't move. I'm gonna grab Don from the Lab."

Raphael massaged his temples as Michelangelo left, just for a reason to escape April's gaze. She was still giving him a dark look when glanced up.

"All right, I'm caught. Would you give it a rest?"

"I don't get you sometimes, Raph. If your brothers tried to hide an injury like that, you'd be the first one coming down hard on them. Why are you fighting this so much?"

"Leo needs them."

"He didn't need _both_ of them all night."

Raphael shrugged and prepared himself for the next phase of the storm that would arrive along with his genius brother. Donatello swept through the door ahead of Michelangelo, and knelt swiftly at Raphael's feet.

He was relieved when Donatello only looked at his leg and held off from touching him. Raphael expected another telling off, and was surprised when Donny was silent. It made the red-masked turtle nervous.

"Talk to me, Donny."

"I want to get you to the Lab so I can have a closer look at this."

Raphael peered at him closely. "You're worried."

"I need to do some tests, Raph. You're not going to give me any trouble, are you?"

"With this bunch around? No way. April's about to skin me alive."

"Do you blame her?' Mike piped up.

Donatello offered Raphael his arm. "Let's take this slow, okay?"

Raphael rose gingerly, his legs feeling even weaker than before. He turned toward Donny, blinking rapidly as his head spun. "Don, I don't feel...so good."

Donatello's grip tightened on his arm. "Mike, help me."

Raphael sagged willingly in their grasp. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, just stick around on me, Raph." Donatello was trying to sound light. "I promise not to go off on you."

"Well, that'd be nice." Raphael managed a half grin. "I'm still thirsty though...and tired."

"Raph?"

Darkness flashed for an instant before Raphael's eyes, then his purple-masked brother came back into view. Don had the back of his hand against his forehead.

"Is it bad?" Raphael asked.

"It's pretty hot, bro. Let's get you off your feet."

"Yeah, sure..." he murmured. "You gonna tell Sensei?"

"Yep. April, will you wake him up please?"

Raphael widened eyes that were feeling heavier by the second. "Will you wake me up too?"

* * *

*** Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. This little Author needs the encouragement right now. Writing has seen me through some hard times in the past, and I just hope that continues to be the case.**


	13. Better

Splinter rested a disapproving gaze on the red-masked turtle for several seconds before giving Raphael any sort of reprieve. His son struggled to look into his eyes, and finally stared shame-faced at the floor.

"We have an agreement, Raphael," Splinter said in a low tone. "It was one of my conditions to _allowing_ your activities on the surface to begin with. No injury goes ignored, despite how small it might seem. I am disappointed in your decision to hide this."

"I'm sorry, Sensei. I know I was wrong."

"Do you also understand that you likely made the infection worse by trying to treat it on your own, instead of coming to us?"

"Yes, Sensei," he answered quietly.

Splinter wanted to maintain the stern look for good measure, but the sight of his sick son made it difficult to withhold any compassion. His gaze fell on Raphael's newly wrapped thigh, which had been lanced in the same manner that many of Leonardo's injuries had been, in the hope of removing the infection.

_But infection has already entered his blood-stream as well, which means that his body will be forced to fight it with very little help from us. Raphael is alert of his surroundings at least. Leonardo_...

The oldest turtle was far under now. Splinter could feel the war that was raging within Leonardo, but on the surface, his son was completely unresponsive to him or Donatello.

"When's Don coming back?" Raphael asked.

"As soon as he can, my son."

"He didn't have to go, not just 'cause of me. I could drink a lot of water, couldn't I?"

"Raphael, we do not know how high your fever will rise. Obtaining a second IV machine feels like a necessity at this point."

"I don't want him poking around on the surface by himself," the turtle mumbled.

"He is not searching for a machine," Splinter reminded him for the third time. _He is beginning to forget things, and that is not a good sign. _"Miss O'Neil already located the unit he needs; he simply has to make some adjustments to it."

"Well, he didn't have to go. When's he coming back?"

"Soon, my son." _The sooner the better_. "Why don't you rest in the meantime?"

Raphael laid his head back down, but his eyes still traveled to the door.

"What is it that concerns you so greatly, Raphael? Your brother has been to the surface many times without your assistance. He has already reached April."

"I want him home."

"You have not answered my question. Why the sudden fear? Is this really about Donatello?"

"Anything could happen up there, Master, _anything_!" the red-masked turtle seethed. "He already ran off on his own once. I just want to know that he's okay."

"It sounds like you are projecting your fear over what happened to Leonardo onto your younger brother."

"I don't have to be scared for Leo - he could always take care of himself, and then some."

"You know that is not_ always _the case, Raphael, especially now."

"I'm not scared about what happened to Leo - I'm _mad_."

"You are angry with your brother?"

"No, Sensei, I'm talking about the idiots who _did_ this to him!" Raphael's voice rose a couple of degrees. "You know they tried to do something with April too! She saw them, and she could identify 'em again. As soon as I can walk, I'm gonna find them. They're gonna pay until they can't feel a single bone in their bodies."

Splinter sighed heavily as he sat down beside Raphael. "I believe you are beginning to confuse justice with revenge, my son."

The turtle's amber eyes were glassy, but tried to focus on him nonetheless. "Master, they _destroyed_ him, and they left Leo to die. If we don't stand up for his honor, who's going to? They can't get away with this! They have to learn - they have to pay!"

"What is the purpose in making them pay, Raphael? What do you expect them to learn?"

"That they can't _treat _somebody like that! They threw him away like he was garbage, Sensei. Doesn't that bother you?"

Splinter swallowed hard to steady his response. "It pains me greatly, my son, but you cannot eliminate the shame of what was done to Leonardo simply by asserting your strength over these youths. Their repentance is not something you can force. Once this kind of damage is done, you cannot turn back the clock. Hurting those who harmed your brother will not change what happened. Proving your dominance over them will not recover Leonardo's honor in their eyes. It will only multiply violence."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Raphael sounded frustrated. "Should we just roll over and die whenever someone tries to kill us? What about self defense, Master? What about doing the right thing? If we don't fight, then they win. If we don't react, how are they supposed to learn anything? They'll keep doing the same stuff, without any end in sight!"

"Self defense is not the method I am questioning," Splinter corrected. "It is for that purpose that I trained all of you. Search your motivation, my son, before you give any more thought to a retaliatory strike. I am not opposed to seeing justice performed against anyone that intentionally harms someone else. But if you are approaching this situation just to prove a point with violence, you are going to fail. Revenge will leave little impact on them, except for fear."

"Sounds good to me."

"Hear what I am saying, Raphael. I too believe these young men should be accountable for their actions, but the rage you are feeling toward them will not accomplish what you're hoping for. A wise man said, 'In taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy, but in passing it over, he is superior'."

"So what then? Are we supposed to ignore it? Pretend it never happened?"

"It needs to be approached in the same way as all the other conflicts that you and your brothers face on the surface, with a desire to see justice achieved. You are _better_ than them, Raphael. Do not allow hate to color your senses, or everything that I have taught you has been in vain."


	14. Listening

*** Not only do I not own the TMNT, I do not own Coldplay, or the song "Fix You". I would however heartily reccomend it to anyone who's never heard it. One of my all-time favorites.**

* * *

Michelangelo finished wrapping the bread back up, absent-mindedly twisting the tie so hard that the flimsy object disintegrated in his fingers. With a grunt of irritation he tied a knot in the bag to close it, and dropped the bread on top of the microwave. His gaze turned over his shoulder to settle on Donatello, who was sitting at the table with his chin in his hand, as if his head weighed a thousand pounds. Don had yet to touch any of the food he'd put in front of him over five minutes earlier.

The radio was playing in the background, and Mike had only partially been listening to it. He didn't normally tune into the news if he was by himself, but when Don and Leo were around the kitchen in the morning, they would want to hear the broadcast.

_"...In other news, police are issuing new warnings to citizens in the Lower East Side to increase their vigilance after nightfall. Police Commissioner Franklin Grant provided a statement to the media a little over an hour ago..."_

Michelangelo turned his attention away from Donatello for the moment, leaning against the counter as the live radio broadcast switched to a recorded feed of the Commissioner.

_"Over the last eight weeks, our responding Precincts on the Lower East Side of Manhattan have received numerous reports of escalating gang violence against citizens. The current information that we have available to us indicates that the alleged attacks are preying on the protective instincts of their victims. According to statements, a number of these violent attacks have been perpetrated in response to a citizen attempting to defend someone else against hurt or loss. A number of people have been hospitalized as a result, due to what are being deemed as 'Good Samaritan' attacks. One of the victims died this morning, after spending a week in critical condition. His death comes on the heels of yet another overnight attack, bearing striking similarities to the previous occurrences._

_"As of now, the NYPD is issuing a warning to all citizens on the Lower East Side to exercise extreme caution after nightfall-"_

"Mike, would you turn that off please?" Donatello suddenly requested. "I really don't want to hear it."

The orange-masked turtle reached to flip the button, and then fixed Donatello with a firm look. "Bro...I _know _you're tired, but Sensei said you had to start eating again. Don't make me go get him."

Donatello met his gaze dejectedly. "Sorry, Mike. I'm not trying to waste all your effort here."

Michelangelo gave him a wry smile. "I wouldn't call toast and an omelet saving the world, Don. But you still need to eat, and then go get some sleep. Are you really not hungry?"

His brother's shoulders rose half-heartedly. "Leo's been unresponsive for four days, Mikey. I really expected the fever to break last night. It can't keep up this way," Donatello finished quietly, as though talking to himself.

"He's that much closer to snapping out of it then," Mike offered. Donatello didn't meet his eyes that time, and Mike reached around him to pick up his plate. "I'm gonna nuke this for you. Seriously, bro, Master won't let you keep up with the night watches if you collapse."

Donatello nodded, and Mike gave him a hopeful grin. The orange-masked turtle stuck the food in the microwave to re-heat it, and threw yet another look over his shoulder at his older brother. Donny was exhausted; it was clear just from the way the turtle was hunched over the table.

_Wish I could do more to help. Donny's looking really ragged today...and discouraged._

The beeping microwave drew Mike back to reality, and replaced the plate on the table in front of Donatello. He spontaneously rested both hands on Donatello's shoulders.

"It'll all work out, Donny. Between you and Sensei, there's no way he won't make it. You gotta keep believing that, okay?" Mike didn't know how much his meager offering could help, but he at least got a small smile from Donatello.

"Thanks, Mikey."

Michelangelo gave him a parting tap, and then noticed the forgotten tea pot on the stove out of the corner of his eye.

"Shell, I forgot all about Sensei's refill. I'd better go heat _that _back up." Mike refilled the waiting tea cup, and microwaved it for a few seconds to make sure it would be hot enough for his Master.

He saluted to Donny as he left the room, and trotted over to the Lab. Splinter appeared to be checking the binding on the new bandage on Raphael's thigh when he walked in.

"Hi, Sensei. Sorry I'm late, I didn't_ completely _forget you."

Splinter gave him a tolerant smile, and Raphael snickered.

"Right, Chucklehead...you'd forget your own shell if it wasn't attached."

Splinter sipped the tea and nodded approvingly. "He may be late, but at least he brings it to me _hot_, Raphael."

"Aw, Sensei, it was only that one time..."

It was Mike's turn to laugh. "His memory is long, Raphy, very long. You're not gonna live that one down." His face became more serious as he glanced over at Leonardo. "How is he, Master?"

"There is no change outwardly, my son, but Leonardo is there."

There was a certainty in Splinter's voice that comforted Michelangelo, and made it easier for him to continue.

"Sensei, why don't you let me sit with Leo and Raph? I mean, how hard can it be? I'm not gonna mess them up, am I?"

Splinter hesitated, but Mike could tell his wheels were turning.

"It'll be okay, Sensei," Raphael piped up. "I'm cool, and Leo's not going anywhere." The red-masked turtle swallowed sharply, as he probably realized he'd said the wrong thing. "Why don't you take an hour at least?"

The lines in Splinter's brow relaxed after a moment. "All right, my sons. _Behave_ yourselves."

"Of course, Master," Mike agreed innocently.

The instant Splinter left, Raphael gave him a scowl.

"Let's get something straight - I don't need no babysitter. But Sensei and Donny don't wanna let Leo outta their sight, so it was nice of you to offer," he added begrudgingly.

Mike shrugged. "They both need a break. How are _you_ feeling?"

"I'm fine. Fever broke yesterday, and I'm just tired. Feels like I ran a marathon or something."

"Have you been in many of those, Raph?"

Raphael rolled his eyes. "You're such a bonehead. Do I really have to hear your mouth for the next hour? Can't you turn on some music or something? It feels like a tomb in here."

"Your stuff might be a little hardcore, but that's not a bad idea. Donny said Leo might be able to hear things. We should turn on something he'd like."

"I don't know if I can take an hour of classical music either, Mike. There's gotta be some kind of middle-ground."

"You'd compromise?" Mike smirked. "Are you going soft or something?"

"Just 'cause I don't have the energy to kick your shell right now doesn't mean I'll forget, Mikey. I have a good memory too."

Michelangelo gave him a teasing smile as he flipped the knob of the radio on Donatello's desk. Pleasing both Raphael and Leonardo simultaneously when it came to music was no easy feat, but he was going to try and find something. The first couple of stations he hit were on commercial, so he paused at the first musical strains he heard on the third.

_"When you try your best, but you don't succeed_

_When you get what you want, but not what you need_

_When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep_

_Stuck in reverse_

_And the tears come streaming down your face_

_When you lose something you can't replace_

_When you love someone but it goes to waste_

_Could it worse?_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you..."_

Raphael nodded approvingly. "Little Coldplay never hurt anybody."

Michelangelo dropped into Donatello's desk chair with a sigh, as the chords of the song filled the room. After a few seconds he stole a glance at Raphael, and saw the turtle staring up at the ceiling. The look on the red-masked turtle's face was so similar to what Donatello had just displayed, it made Mike grimace.

Mike wheeled his chair over to Raphael's side. "Don't look so happy, bro." He tried to sound light.

"I'm sick of this bed, and I'm sick of him being asleep."

"You dying to fight with Leo some more?" Mike grinned.

"That ain't funny, Mike," he replied curtly.

"Sorry," the orange-masked turtle mumbled.

Raphael sat up part of the way on his elbows. "I know you're trying to make things better, Mikey. It's just not that simple."

Michelangelo fell back into silence, listening as the instrumental portion on the song began truly taking off in the background. When Raphael's hand slammed down on his shoulder he nearly jumped out of his chair.

"Geesh, Raph, I'm gonna need that arm for the rest of my life."

"He _moved_."

"What?"

"I'm telling you, Leo just moved! Get your shell up and check on him!"

Michelangelo scrambled upright, nearly tripping over his own two feet to get to his side. "Leo?"

Mike caught his breath when his older brother turned his head slightly. Leonardo seemed to be trying to say something, but his voice cracked helplessly. Michelangelo looked around swiftly, until he spotted a sports bottle on the desktop. Trembling slightly he bent down to his brother's level, and maneuvered the straw into Leonardo's mouth.

"Drink, Leo."

Leonardo swallowed with obvious effort, and squinted as if he couldn't see Michelangelo very well. "What's that?" he barely whispered.

"It's water, bro."

"No. Music."

Michelangelo chuckled with the massive relief that was coursing through his veins. "It's Coldplay. You've never heard it?"

"I like it."

Mike laughed louder. "You and Raph agree on a band? I guess miracles_ can _happen."


	15. Fractured

Leonardo's hand rested on top of the unopened book at his side as he silently stared in space. Mike had brought it down from his room yesterday, after Leo had turned down his brother's offer to use his hand held game. It was nice to know that his youngest brother was thinking of him, but being "entertained" was one of the furthest things from the blue-masked turtle's mind.

_A distraction wouldn't be so bad...but "The Art of War" is hardly what I need to be reading._

The others were treating him like he was fragile, and Leonardo wasn't tempted to discourage it. Despite the fact that he only had a few fractured ribs, he still _felt_ broken through and through. He didn't mind their concern; what he _didn't_ want was their presence constantly hovering over him. What he wanted, more than anything, was to be left alone.

_How fickle can I get? When I'm in trouble, I'm dying to reach out to them. But now that I'm home, I want my space. There's something wrong with that. They probably think I'm asleep right now, or they wouldn't have left me alone for _this_ long._

Leonardo swallowed as he shifted positions slightly. _They're not the problem here_, he thought grimly. _It's me. This was my failure. They're only trying to support me. Why is that so hard to accept?_

He could openly admit that he felt stupid and embarrassed for falling for the gang's set up.

_But the others want more than that. They're going to want to know what happened, and I can't..._Leonardo cut the thought off as a tidal wave of anger assaulted him. _I can't go there with them. I can't even stand to go there _myself_._

Leonardo released the fingers of his right hand that had been unconsciously clutching the side of the mattress. He exhaled through a shallow breath as he tried to still the rage that warred with him. Then he thought bleakly of earlier that morning when he'd unwittingly yanked his arm away from April with a snarl, when the woman had only been trying to comfort him. He winced as the vision of her face passed through his mind.

_She startled me, I was only half awake...But that doesn't mean she deserved it._

He heard a light scratching at the door, and propped himself up carefully. Leonardo grunted as pain shot through his ribcage, but he didn't want his Master to constantly see him lying down. He already knew that it was Splinter, just by the way he approached the door.

"Come in, Sensei."

The rat ambled into the Lab, offering Leonardo a soft smile. "It is good to see you sitting up, my son, but do not feel like you need to push yourself too hard."

"I'm all right, Master, it isn't as if I'm on my feet."

"No, and you shouldn't be for awhile. Training is going to have to put off for several weeks I'm afraid. You must allow time for your ribs to heal properly."

Leonardo nodded morosely. He normally hated missing katas, but for once, he didn't want to think about fighting. The idea was so distasteful that it made him want to grimace. "I understand, Sensei," was his only reply.

Splinter gazed at him unspeaking for several seconds, and Leonardo shifted uncomfortably under his dark eyes. He was perfectly aware that his Master was gifted at seeing through him, and that wasn't an idea he relished at the moment. Leonardo folded his arms across his chest protectively, as if he could somehow hide behind them.

"My son, I know that you are not ready to talk to us. But I want you to remember that I'm still here, if you need anything."

Leonardo nodded again. "I know, Master. Thank you." Splinter's gaze had yet to falter, and Leonardo_ really _wished it would. "I'm okay," he added insistently. "Just tired. I think I should get some more sleep."

"Rest will do you much good, Leonardo. Are you certain there is nothing I can do for you?"

"Is April okay?" he asked softly.

"Of course she is, my son. She does not hold your reaction against you. Miss O'Neil knows that it was not intentional."

"I still feel bad, especially considering what she went through to help find me. If she hadn't..."

Leonardo shivered, averting his eyes to stare at his folded arms. It wasn't even possible to _refer _to the attack without every ounce of anger trapped inside of him threatening to explode in one fell swoop. He hoped asking about April would be enough to satisfy his Sensei for the time being. As for the long term explanation...he would deal with it later.

Splinter's eyes finally let up. "Then you require nothing?"

"No, Master."

"All right, Leonardo. I will not be far away."

Leonardo sighed inwardly as Splinter left the room. His brothers were pretty easy to brush off, but his Sensei was another story.

_How long can I hide it from him? How long can I keep it in? I don't know how to tell him...them, that I can't do this anymore._

He clenched his eyes shut, refusing to allow regret to completely surface. Leonardo didn't have the energy to force back down threatening tears. He turned his head toward the wall, hating the pain that tingled across the injured skin on his neck.

_Stupid burns...stupid punks._

Leonardo had the sudden urge to pummel something, but he barely had the power to move. He really _was_ tired, but the images that often replayed before his eyes when he tried to sleep gave him little incentive to rest.

_How can I face them again? What are they going to say when I tell them I'm finished? I wish there was easier way. They'll never look at me the same, not that they're expecting much after this episode._

He raised his right arm a couple of inches, and tried to punch the mattress with all the force he could muster.

_I'm not supposed to remember it like this. Isn't that the rule or something? You get hit enough times, and you're supposed to forget. I wish I could pretend I didn't know what happened. But how could I explain giving up? There's no way around disappointing them._

Despair had taken a choke-hold, and he felt powerless to break it.

_Why is this time different? I've been attacked before - I've been hurt by people. I've seen so many awful things on the surface, it would take years to tell all of the stories. Why is _this_ so much harder?_

It was as if the true futility of his existence was crashing down, and for the first time, he accepted it.

_What's the point in fighting for them, when there isn't any hope for us? Being on their side doesn't force them to be on ours. We could spend our entire lives doing this, and get nothing except an occasional shell-kicking in return. Even if we all end up dying for the human race, it won't make a difference. We are who we are, and they'll never accept us._


	16. Team

Splinter had been separated from his sons for over three hours, with thoughts churning through his mind like tumultuous waves on a storm tossed sea. Peace would not come. There had been an extraordinary sense of relief when Leonardo had initially come around, and little time for introspection while he and Donatello continued with his healing. It wasn't until a couple of days after the blue-masked turtle had woken up that Splinter began to realize the _depth_ of his son's injuries.

_I expected the shame and remorse. I knew that Leonardo would take the full responsibility for what happened on his shoulders, and that he would need help finding acceptance in our eyes. But there is something else there, something that covers his whole being in darkness that he does not want me to see. I am not as concerned that he does not want to talk about it yet, as I am at the idea of him desiring to hide part of himself from me._

Splinter was tired of brooding over what could be wrong with his oldest son, and knew that he'd left the others alone for long enough. It was probably time to have a talk with them. He reached for his walking stick, leaning on it a little harder than usual as he made his way out of his quarters.

_It seems a heaviness dwells over the entire Den, and it is possible that will remain to be the case until the subject of Leonardo and the youths who attacked him is broached._

Splinter moved so silently that he was certain his sons hadn't picked up on his presence yet, as he hesitated by the wall in the hallway. The three turtles were gathered in a circle around the coffee table, hovering closely together as though they were discussing something.

"I need April to get a look at it. She was right there with him; she should be able to confirm his identity without any doubt," Donatello said. "Once we have a positive identification, we can talk about how to approach the situation."

"Who is Miss O'Neil going to identify for you?" Splinter asked, calmly appearing in the living area.

Three heads shot up in unison, but none of them looked guiltier than Donatello.

"Sensei, it's...uh..."

As the purple-masked turtle faltered, Splinter noticed that neither of his brothers jumped in to explain.

"I found a mug shot that I want April to see," Donatello said finally. "I think it's one of the ring-leaders of the group that attacked Leonardo."

Splinter peered over the back of the couch at the laptop as Donatello turned it toward him. "I see. You wish for her to confirm that it is the same man she saw with one of his katana. How exactly did you come to select _this_ young man, out of the many felons in the police records? Did Leonardo share something with you?"

"Well...no, Sensei, he didn't. The truth is...that night that I got held up distracting those guys from the alley? That wasn't the whole story."

Splinter's gaze automatically deepened. "What happened?" he asked flatly.

"After I lost the first two guys, I started to head for home. That was when I saw_ them_. There were a number of youth gathering from a couple of different directions, like they were meeting up right there in front of the alley where we found Leo. I could tell they were Latin Kings, so...I stayed close by and listened to them. One of the young men was hiding a katana under his shirt, or he was trying to, I should say. They came back to finish Leo off, Master. I stuck around there longer than I should have, and I got spotted. I ran, they chased me...and I stayed hidden until I was sure I'd lost them. I came home after that."

Anger was the first emotion to surface in Splinter's mind, but he forced a calm exterior to remain. "And you were close enough to be able to indentify him?"

"He walked right past me, Sensei."

"What were the three of you planning on doing if Miss O'Neil confirmed this boy's identity?"

Raphael threw up his arms defensively. "It ain't what you think, Sensei. We didn't have any plans yet, and we weren't gonna do anything without talking to you. We just kinda figured this was a jumping off point to get somewhere."

"Things have grown worse in East Harlem, Sensei," Donatello said quietly. "The attacks have been getting more violent - there have been at least three deaths now. I heard a report today that the FBI is going to get involved. The only thing that their victims have in common is that they were trying to protect someone_ else _at the time of their own attack. I'd bet my shell it fits the case with Leonardo too. That means if we track down the youths responsible for Leo's beating, we might be able to nip this whole thing in the bud at the same time."

"We just wanna make sure they get caught, Sensei," Mike spoke up. "_Somebody _has to stop them."

Splinter nodded and looked at Raphael. "Call Miss O'Neil please, and ask if she is available to come down. Donatello, I would like to see you in my quarters now."

The purple-masked turtle took a shaky breath as he got to his feet, and followed Splinter back to the room. The rat glanced over his shoulder as Donatello hesitated in the doorway.

"Come_ in_, Donatello."

The turtle silently entered the room, and slowly knelt as if they were in the dojo.

"My son, telling only part of the truth is no different to me than if you had lied to my face. Why did you hide this from me?"

Donatello met his gaze, even though Splinter could tell he didn't want to. "I messed up. It was bad enough that I separated from Raphael at all, but after getting discovered by those rotten..." A flash of hot anger lit in the turtle's chocolate brown eyes, and he took a deep breath before he continued. "It knew it had been a mistake to stick around that long, and I guess I was afraid of getting in worse trouble."

"Donatello, I am more disappointed that you would choose to conceal something from me, than by any mistake you may have made. The mantle that the four of you have chosen to bear requires honesty with each other, and with me."

Donatello's head bowed slightly. "I'm sorry, Sensei."

"You are not to go to the surface alone until further notice."

The turtle nodded meekly, and then met his gaze again.

"You will show me that I can trust you completely, my son. I never want to be forced to wonder what you are _not_ telling me."

"I will, Master, I promise."

"I believe you will, Donatello. Now...have you had any true thoughts of your own about approaching the gang responsible for these attacks?"

"They're going to have to be caught in the act," Donatello said with certainty. "It's the only way we can be sure that they won't get away with it anymore. We can't let them slip through the cracks, Sensei. This won't be a job where we can just tie them up and leave. We have to make sure the police will have evidence. So we either have to catch them doing it someone else...or we have to try and set them up ourselves."

"It does not sound simple."

"It would mean an awful lot of surveillance...and I don't think we'd want to attempt anything against them without the whole team."

Splinter rubbed a hand across weary eyes. "Yes, well...it is going to take some time before the _entire_ team is ready for such a feat."


	17. Communicating

Leonardo gazed at the empty rack that was sitting on the floor inside the room that he shared with Raphael. The rack that was supposed to hold his katanas - the first pair that he and his Sensei had forged together when he'd graduated to a real blade. He had another pair, but the loss of the originals was still a heavy one.

It had been over three weeks since the terrible night that felt like it had changed Leonardo more than he wanted to admit. The anger and helplessness was like a vise that was daily tightening. He didn't speak any more than he had to, and he hadn't spoken of that_ night _period. It wasn't that difficult to get his family to leave him alone for the most part. In their minds he was still physically healing, and required a lot of rest. It also provided the privacy that he still wanted to hold on to.

_Everything will come out eventually, just not now._

That had become the rallying thought that reassured him every time he turned a brother away, or intentionally blocked his Master from getting close to him.

_They all know something's wrong with me, but they honestly have no idea how bad it is._

Leonardo felt completely torn. In his mind he still remembered everything he'd ever learned about honor and compassion from his Master, but the paralyzing despair made it feel like none of it mattered.

_I don't want this. I don't want this anger, and I don't want these feelings. I just want to go back. I want to go back to knowing that the honorable thing is worth doing, no matter what the consequences. When doing the right thing was all that was important, and if I got burned helping someone else...I was happy to take the fall, so they didn't have to._

He couldn't be sure that his Sensei didn't already have some idea of what he was wrestling with. Leonardo had come close to telling him openly a couple of times, only to withdraw.

_I don't know if I can take his disappointment, on top of everything else. And the guys..._

The knock at the door wasn't entirely unexpected. He'd been resting on the bottom bunk that he was using for the time being, ever since Michelangelo had forced breakfast on him that morning. It was pushing 12:30 now.

"It's open." Leonardo's voice sounded strange and hollow to his own ears, almost as if it wasn't his.

Donatello peered into the room from the door, his posture stiff with nerves. Leonardo carefully turned on his side so he could face him easier.

"Hey." Leonardo tried to sound normal. "What's up?"

"Leo, can I talk to you about something?"

The blue-masked turtle automatically tensed. "Well...you can try," he replied honestly. "What is it, Don?"

"If something was bothering you, that is...If I was doing something to hurt you, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

Leonardo cocked his head in confusion. "This isn't about the fight we had, is it, Donny? You can't think I'm still mad after everything that's happened."

"No, Leo, that's not where I was going. Um...have a little patience with me, because this isn't easy. I guess I just want to say that I know you're under a lot of pressure to perform in a certain way...and I don't want to be the one to complicate it. I know there are probably times when you don't feel like you're good enough for Sensei or the rest of us, but it isn't true. There's nothing that we, that _I_ wouldn't do to make sure you realize how important you are."

"I screwed up, all right? I know that," Leonardo replied wearily. "I don't need to be reminded right now."

"But that's not what I'm trying to do, Leo. I'm saying that we all love you, no matter what."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "This isn't the time to do this."

"Hear me out, bro. I'm just worried about you - I'm not trying to make you feel worse."

"I know you're worried - _everybody's_ worried! 'Fearless leader went down in flames of glory, what are we supposed to do with him now? When the shell is he gonna snap out of it'?"

"Leo, nobody is thinking like that. We know you went through something awful, and I'm not here to judge how you're reacting to it. I only want to make sure that you still feel secure with us."

"Where is this coming from, Don? Are you imagining you can read my thoughts, or are the three of you down there trying to figure out how badly I've cracked?"

"Leo, you said some things when you were sick-"

"What did I say to you? Please refresh my memory. I know you've probably been stewing about it for days."

The insecurity in Donatello's eyes transformed into annoyance. "Forget it; I'm sorry I said anything. Mike will be up to bring you lunch in a couple of minutes. Try not to bite _his_ head off."

A pang of strong regret shook Leonardo after the purple-masked turtle left. He sighed deeply, forgetting momentarily about his injuries. Leonardo groaned in pain, and then in utter frustration.

_I guess that stupid fight _did _stay with me. I don't know what to think anymore. I mean, Raph is Raph. If something's on his mind, if I'm ticking him off, he doesn't hesitate to tell me. I might not like it, but at least I know where I stand with him. It's different with Don and Mikey. Mike will speak his piece if he gets offended badly enough, but he'd much rather be running around laughing than trying to hash something out. It's strange to think that Don's the one I don't get - the brother I don't know how to deal with. He's gotta be one of the easiest guys in the world to get along with, but getting him to open his mouth about what's going on inside his head is like trying to pry open a steel trap. I can't expect him to be like Raph, but I wish he'd get real with me._

Leonardo swallowed as another wave of remorse hit him.

_Not that I'm doing much to help matters. He was trying to reach out to me, and I didn't want to hear it. Maybe I'm not _ready_ to hear it. Everything will come out eventually, but it doesn't have to be right this second, _he repeated his mantra inwardly, and settled back into stillness to wait for Michelangelo to turn up.


	18. Airing Out

"Leo, get up. You've been lyin' there forever," Raphael crossly ordered the blue-masked turtle.

The look in Leonardo's eyes was doubtful. "There's no possible way you got Sensei to agree to me leaving the Den, Raph. I don't buy it. Being hurt doesn't make me an idiot."

"He _did_ agree to it, Leo. Do you really think I'd try to sneak you out past him? I'm not an idiot either."

"I'm not ready to be up and around like that, Raph."

"You won't even have to do that much. Between me and Donny, we got the van running."

Leonardo gave him a curious look. "You worked together?"

"What, like that's so amazing? I _can_ do a few things mechanically. We had the extra time on our hands."

Leonardo's interest was short-lived at best. "I don't feel like going anywhere. I'm sorry, okay?"

Raphael fell into a cross-legged position on the floor so he would be level with Leonardo on the bottom bunk. "Lemme spell this out for you, bro. You either come with me tonight, or I'm gonna invite the rest of the family to stage a full-scale intervention on your shell."

"I don't_ need _an intervention! I just need some time. Why is that so hard to understand?"

"You've_ had _time, Leo. You've been stuck down here almost a month, and I know you've gotta be going a little stir-crazy. There's no catch, bro. I'm not asking you to do anything except come with me."

"Why do you care what I do?"

"Because I care about _you_, ya stubborn shell-head!"

Leonardo stared at him darkly for a few seconds, but his shoulders sagged in defeat. "Will it get you off my back for awhile?"

"Yep. Now get up - I wanna leave pretty soon."

"What's the rush? The city's not going anywhere, is it?"

"No, but at this rate the band will be half-way through their set by the time we get up there."

"What band?"

"Let's get going, and I can show you rather than tell you."

* * *

Raphael gave his brother a sideways glance as he finished parking the van on a side street, well away from the hanging street lamps. He nearly laughed at the sullen expression Leonardo wore under the dim glow of the dome light.

_It's almost like looking in a mirror. Ol' Fearless could pass for a chip off _this_ block if he's not careful._

"Where are we?" Leonardo asked.

"Just get outta the car. We don't have much further to go."

Raphael waited patiently while Leonardo extricated himself from the seat belt, and led him in between two buildings. He saw Leonardo hesitate when the strains of loud music and voices carried from around the front-side of the establishment.

"It's okay, Leo, follow my lead. I do this all the time."

"What? Hang out in a bar?"

"I've been tempted, but no. Hold on for a second."

Raphael boosted off the side of the building, and caught the end of a ladder that led to a fire escape. "You take it slow, and you should be okay."

He sent Leonardo up ahead of him, and kept his mouth shut while he climbed slowly behind his brother to get up to the stairs. Raphael offered his arm at the top, and Leonardo accepted his help over the ledge with a grunt.

"Okay." Leonardo sounded breathless. "Now why the shell are we here, Raph?"

"Take a load off and relax, Leo. Breathe the free air. This is one of my favorite 'alone' spots, and I ain't never shown it to someone else. Place has a great house band, and you can hear it pretty well through the ducts."

"Is this your attempt at fixing me?"

"I ain't trying to fix you, bro. I just want you to get off your high horse for one night."

Leonardo glared at him. "Really, for _this_ you dragged me out? You could have ripped what's left of me to shreds at home!"

"Aw, would you knock it off, Leo? Those stupid punks could barely put a dent in your shell. Why would you let them do this to you?"

"You don't understand anything."

"What don't I get? That you're so ticked off you'd like to rip a few of them in half? Nah, I don't know _anything_ about anger."

"You were_ born _with a chip on your shoulder! You have no idea what this is like."

Raphael snorted. "Typical."

"What?"

"You ain't changed at all, Leo, you're the same perfect turtle you always were."

"You're so wrong, you can't even imagine."

"I'm not wrong, you just think I am. You're the 'ever noble Leonardo.' You can't even live with yourself for having those kinds of thoughts."

"What do you know about it? You're not inside my head!"

"I share a room with you, Leo. I _see_ the anger you're trying to hide, and I hear the junk you say when you're trying to sleep!"

"I don't have to listen to this." Leonardo started to struggle to his feet, but Raphael's firm hand on his shell kept him planted on the roof.

"Do you have a clue how much easier your life would be if you'd quit trying to be so dagone perfect all the time, Leo?"

"I never claimed to be perfect."

"No, you just beat your brains out_ trying _to be!" Raphael shot back. "You're the only guy I know who could go through something like that, and feel this guilty for being mad about it!"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"_Yes_, I do! You never accept anything less than perfection, bro, and you don't ever let up on yourself. For once, could you just stop worrying so much about letting everybody else down? We can take it if you screw up, Leo! No one would have a heart attack if you told us how mad you really are."

"That's not even the half of it, Raph! _I don't want to do this anymore_!" Leonardo buried his forehead against his knees as the first soft sob escaped.

Raphael bit his lip as he squirmed on the rooftop beside his brother. The red-masked turtle opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it. He wasn't positive where Leonardo was going, but he deserved a chance to get there. Watching his brother break down was so painful that it made Raphael want to crush something - preferably the skulls of a few bad guys.

Minutes passed before Leonardo found his voice again. "I'm sorry. I can't pretend like everything is fine. I can't _live_ this way anymore."

"What way, Leo?"

The blue-masked turtle pounded both fists against the roof. "Why are we doing this, Raph? Why do we throw ourselves at the mercy of everything unholy for these people? All we can expect from them is fear and rejection, and those are the ones who _aren't_ trying to kill us! What are we _doing_ here? We're nothing but a drop in the bucket. We barely make any difference with the stuff we _do_ break up!"

Raphael's eye ridges rose. "It makes a difference to the people we help, doesn't it? And what about the people who get protected _because_ the bad guy got forced off the street?"

"For how long? Most of them get out, Raph, you know how this works! What are we fighting so hard for? Why are giving up our lives for a world that we can't ever live in?"

"Well...we gotta do something with our time, don't we?"

"Is that really the best you've got?"

"No, Leo, I'm just not used to being on this end of the argument. You have to give me a second."

Leonardo rose stiffly, and leaned against the ledge. "Is this all we have to look forward to for the rest of our lives, Raph?"

Raphael got up to stand beside him. "I don't know, Leo...I mean...I get discouraged thinking about 'forever' sometimes too. But when we're in that moment and somebody's life is hanging by a thread, it's pretty cool to be the one to pull 'im back to safety. And when those smug punks are taking advantage of somebody weaker than them, and we get to be there to put them in their place...it makes the world feel lighter.

"Do we get a 'thank you?' Hardly ever. Do we get something out of it? Leo, you can answer that as well as me. Nobody ever said we had to do this, not even Sensei. It's always been our choice, from the very start. No one ever said that it's fair - things just are the way they are. When you really stop and think about it, we have more going for us than some of those people down there."

Leonardo's dark eyes flicked over to him. "How do you figure?"

"You know what I mean, bro, don't make me get all cheesy. Let me have _some_ kind of dignity." When the smallest trace of a smile hit his brother's lips, Raphael continued. "Our lives are never gonna be perfect, Leo, but we got each other, don't we?"

The blue-masked turtle's face fell again. "You almost didn't. I don't know why they didn't kill me outright; there was nothing to stop them. I might not be here right now."

"But you _are_. That's as good a reason to be happy as any, ain't it?"

Leonardo didn't respond, and in the moments of silence that followed, Raphael heard the opening chords to a familiar song.

The red-masked turtle cracked a lop-sided grin. "Their band never fails me. They always fall back on this song."

"What song?"

"Just listen, okay?"

_"Has our conscience shown?_

_Has the sweet breeze blown?_

_Has all the kindness gone?_

_Hope still lingers on._

_I drink myself of newfound pity_

_Sittin' alone in New York City_

_And I don't know why_

_I don't know why._

_xxxx_

_Are we listening_

_To hymns of offering?_

_Have we eyes to see_

_Love is gathering?_

_All the words that I've been reading_

_Have started the act of bleeding_

_Into one_

_Into one."_

When it became obvious that Leonardo really _was_ trying to listen, Raphael quietly picked up the chorus along with the faint voice carrying down from below.

_"So I walk up on high _

_And I step to the edge_

_To see my world below_

_And I laugh at myself_

_While the tears roll down_

_'Cause it's the world I know_

_It's the world I know."_

Leonardo shifted on the roof, and fixed Raphael with a serious look while the instrumental carried on. "So what's the moral of this story?"

"That our lives suck sometimes, Leo, but that doesn't mean they're worthless. We might not ever get to see the impact we have, but that doesn't mean we aren't leaving one."

The blue-masked turtle exhaled deeply as some of the tension in his shoulders appeared to ease. "You know, Raph...you honestly _can_ sing."

"Shut up, Fearless."

* * *

***The song is called "The World I Know", and it's by Collective Soul. The first time I heard it, I thought...Raph. It feels like it could be his theme song. I knew it would end up in a fic at some point, and the timing felt appropriate. Thanks for sticking with me through this experimental plot bunny. Still got a couple of chapters to wrap up. ;)**


	19. Telling

***This could be a little painful, but not near as bad as if I'd shown you the event in real time. That's not a "kindness" I often repeat, so you better take what you can get. ;)**

* * *

Their jaunt to the surface left Leonardo extraordinarily sore, but feeling lighter than he had in days. Going to bed had been easy when they arrived home. He could have slept for twelve hours, but in the back of of his mind, he knew he'd blown his family off long enough. When Leonardo asked all of them to meet him in the living area the next morning, he could tell his younger brothers were nervous. His Master's reassuring look and calming presence told Leonardo to take his time, without Splinter even being forced to say the words.

Haltingly, he started at the beginning of his encounter with the gang. Leonardo had the strange sensation that he was picking at a strong knot as the story unfolded, but the more it unraveled, the freer he felt. A few sentences into the telling the blue-masked turtle paused for a longer moment, focusing on each of his brothers and then his Sensei in turn.

"I don't know how long I was out," he picked up again. "When I woke up, it was dark. I couldn't see anything, and it smelled...musty. Old. I realized I couldn't move my arms first, and that there was something digging into my wrists. It felt sharp, like it would cut me if I struggled too hard. My legs were weighted down somehow too.

"I was alone for the first few minutes, and nothing was happening. My eyes adjusted to the darkness a little, but I still couldn't make out any distinct details about the room, except that it felt cavernous and empty. The girl was the first one to turn up - I could_ smell _her cheap perfume, even though I couldn't see her well. She touched my face, and I wanted to throw up. It was like she could tell...well, she'd_ have _to figure that no girl had ever touched me that way, and she was doing her best to make me uncomfortable. Everything was funny to her, and she wouldn't stop talking. I hated it, and I hated _her _for selling me out, when I was trying to protect her.

"I heard the others coming in, and somebody turned on a light. I saw two of them handling my katanas the completely _wrong_ way, and it was the first time that I erupted. They enjoyed the anger - they tried hard to egg me on. When I realized that the reaction was what they wanted, I clammed up and wouldn't say another word.

"Some of them started to attack me after that. They were clumsy, and didn't even seem like they knew _how _to hit me. I swear one of them must have broken their hand when he rammed it into my plastron. They weren't getting anywhere fast and I wasn't reacting, so they turned up the heat. What must have been the younger guys backed off, and two others took their place. They looked older, harder...like they'd had years of experience doing this kind of thing.

"They started hitting me with something metal...It made a hollow sound every time it slammed into my chest. I think they were pipes. They took turns going at it, but I still wasn't exploding the way they wanted me to. I think they expected anger or desperation...they kept ribbing me to start begging for mercy. I wouldn't look at them, and it made them _mad_. The one with the scars began punching me in the face. I could tell I was bleeding, and I felt like I was on the verge of passing out...when it stopped. I didn't understand why. The girl said something in Spanish, and it seemed like the others were just waiting. Everything had gotten so quiet. I _knew_ something else was about to happen, just not what."

Leonardo paused for such a long moment that Splinter reached for his arm.

"You do not have to continue, my son."

Leonardo shook his head. "No. I have to get it out, so it'll stop crushing me."

"You have spoken much already today."

"Yes, Sensei, and it only took me four _weeks_ to do it. I don't want to hide anymore." As Leonardo spoke, he suddenly recognized the way that Splinter's ears were flattening slightly, an unconscious indicator of the difficulty his Master was having in listening. "I won't...elaborate as much as I could," he said quietly.

"The girl disappeared for a a little while, and the first sign I saw of her returning was this weird red light. I couldn't help wondering what it was. I heard her boasting to the other thugs that she was going to 'win', and I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what she meant. Someone turned off the only light that was on, and then all I could see was that red glow, and the faint outline of their figures in the darkness.

She explained what the iron rod in her hand was for, and how I could make the burning stop. Honestly, I was a little dumbfounded. I wasn't sure she'd actually do it, until the heat made contact with my neck. It caused this instant sensation of pain, and sweat, and...burning. She kept the rod on me, even though I cried out right away. I don't know how long it lasted. After the burning started, everything became a blur."

Leonardo shivered and closed his eyes as he forced his way through the memory. "I remember that I began struggling, wrenching my arms so violently that I instinctively knew I was hurting myself. But it didn't matter, because nothing I did with my arms hurt as badly as the burning."

The blue-masked turtle opened his eyes again, unwilling to make them hear more at this point. "I think...the whole point of their game is capturing the desired reactions, and exercising complete power over people. From their taunting, it sounded like it was also supposed to be a lesson for the 'hero', as much as it was a show for their entertainment."

Donatello took a deep breath, as if he'd been holding it all that time. "It fits the profile, Leo. They've done this kind of thing to several people, and some of them have died."

"That's not hard to believe," Leonardo said flatly. "I thought I was going to." As the blue-masked turtle emerged from the memories he'd been weaving, an unexpected but familiar calm descended over his mind. "Then we know _who_ we're dealing with. We have to figure out how we're going to stop them." The blue-masked turtle was startled by his own rational response, which was such a stark contrast to the turmoil that had been brewing inside of him.

"You are not ready yet, Leonardo," Splinter reminded him.

"No, but I will be," he replied with certainty. "I'm sorry I checked out on you, guys. I'm sorry I got myself into this. I sort of lost sight of things for awhile, but I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere. The question is, do I still have my place?"

Raphael snorted. "As if we'd follow somebody else? Shell, Leo, that's funny to even think about."

Michelangelo offered Leonardo a cheshire smile with his typical enthusiasm. "No one can take _your _place, Fearless."

Leonardo's eyes fell on his enigmatic purple-masked brother. "What about you?"

Donatello nodded. "Welcome back, bro."

Donny rose from the couch to meet him, and Leonardo sat up further in the recliner so that his younger brother could embrace him.

The blue-masked turtle looked at Splinter lastly. "I messed up, Sensei, and I could have been easily killed. I don't expect you to look at me the same way. I know I have a lot of work ahead of me to get where I need to be. But I'm willing to do it, if you can say that you still believe me."

"You would doubt that, my son?"

Leonardo looked down at the floor. "I failed all of you. I would understand if your trust in me is shaken."

"My _trust _has not changed, Leonardo. You have a lot of healing to do, but that does not mean that I wish for you to step aside, nor does it sound like your brothers do."

"Then...I guess it's only a matter of time before we can deal with these thugs properly." Frustration resurfaced as Leonardo leaned back harder in the chair. "How many more people have to be hurt in the meantime?"

"The police are stepping up their own efforts to catch them," Don offered. "They've partnered with the FBI now. Maybe they'll beat us to the punch."

Leonardo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "We can dream, can't we? I hope it can be that simple. I have to say though, it would be nice to get my katanas back."

"We know who's got at least one of 'em, Fearless." Raphael had a dangerous glint in his amber eyes. "We could track him down for you _tonight."_

Leonardo shook his head. "No, I can be patient, Raph. I want to _be_ there to see the look on his face when I take it back. I just hope we get the chance."


	20. BackUp

The light rain dotting the windshield was becoming hypnotic to the lone Federal Agent, as he waited impatiently for something to happen.

_The field is great, the field is exciting, everyone's dying to get into the field_, he thought sarcastically. _What a crock. They should have courses on how to deal with mind-numbing boredom on a stakeout._

He blew out a noisy sigh. _It's my own fault for showing up early, but would it kill my partner to show as much enthusiasm as me?_

The man was fighting the temptation to rest his eyes when a scream from nearby shattered the calm, and made him jolt so hard he almost hit the ceiling. He caught movement in his rear-view mirror, and then threw his head over his shoulder to find the source of the noise. He squinted hard at the shadowy figures located only a couple of yards away from his Jeep, and caught his breath at the sight of a much smaller figure being shoved down onto the street.

The scream repeated, somewhat muffled this time. His heart beat faster as he reached for the button on the door handle, and lowered the window a few inches. He strained to listen to what could be happening, and heard the unmistakable sound of raining blows. For a couple of seconds he was frozen, uncertain of whether or not he should make a move.

_Think, man, think! What are you doing out here? If this is another set-up..._

The Agent reached for his radio. "Central, this is unit 162, I have a suspected 240 in progress. Requesting assistance half a mile west of East River Plaza."

"Agent, back-up is not in position. Do not attempt to engage."

"Central, you have my location. I think the situation is escalating - send the back-up!"

He hung up the radio without waiting for a response, and checked the weapon on his hip as he got out of the car. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he descended on the figures who were towering over the third on the pavement. The thin frame on the ground wasn't moving, and made the Agent even more concerned.

He was just about to identify himself as FBI when the two young men turned on him. He ducked the swing of a punch, and lowered his head as he charged forward, cracking his attacker solidly in the chin. The Agent backpedaled to avoid the knife blade plunging toward his chest. Then he brought his hand down in a chopping motion on his assailant's wrist, so that the knife went flying. He followed the blow up by ramming his knee into his opponent's stomach as hard as he could. He grinned with satisfaction as he whipped two pairs of zip-ties off his belt, and used them to bind together their wrists.

_They can't be more than teenagers. That would fit the M.O. of the guys we're looking for, but I'm still not sure...This could have been an isolated incident. We're having to cover a lot of ground_-

He cut the thought off abruptly as he remembered to check the third figure, and dropped into a shallow puddle of water beside what turned out to be a young woman. Her eyes opened as he bent over her, and she took an incredibly shaky breath.

"Help me," she whispered.

"It's okay. Don't try to get up - help is coming."

Her hand clawed at his jacket desperately. "Don't let them..."

"They won't hurt you now, Miss, you're going to be all right. Can you move everything?"

"What?"

"Can you move?"

She pulled at her ear, as if she was having trouble hearing him. The Agent leaned over further, and patted her shoulder reassuringly.

"Back-up is coming - I already called them. Just hold on."

The girl was clinging to his jacket sleeve, and as he tried to gently disengage her fingers from the fabric, her other hand snaked toward him in the blink of an eye. She had his service weapon out of his holster before he even realized she was reaching for it. He stumbled backwards off his knees as she pointed the gun at him.

"_Whoa_, now hang on-"

"Please don't speak and ruin this for me. This is only the second time I've been allowed to play anything but the victim." The girl jumped to her feet without any evidence of difficulty.

"Look, don't be stupid," he said evenly. "You're not going to get away with this, the street will be crawling with cops."

A slight smirk emerged on her features. "Yes, your back-up. Where _are _they exactly?"

He eyed the barrel of the gun warily as she slowly circled him, not daring to move from the street where he was still planted.

"I think _my_ back-up is closer by," she taunted him, and nodded toward a van across the street.

As if on a pre-arranged signal, the doors to the vehicle came open.

_I _thought _that thing looked suspicious, why didn't I go for a closer look?_

While his eyes were fixed on the young men parading toward them, the young woman snapped the barrel of his gun across the back of his head. Darkness momentarily threatened the edges of his vision, as he felt arms turning him roughly, and yanking his wrists together. He held on to rational thought as something sharp was twisted around his hands, reminding him of some kind of wire.

As they were lifting and dragging him, his bleary eyes focused on the direction they were taking him.

_The _van! _No, I can't let them!_

As he dug in his heels the two men on either side of him applied more force. Without warning they hurled him face-first against the vehicle, and his vision distorted as he slumped uselessly against the teens. Pain throbbed so hard, it felt like his heart was beating inside of his head. He expected to pass out at any moment. The voices surrounding him were getting confusing, suddenly sounding higher pitched and anxious. None of it made sense to his floundering mind. His ears were assaulted by footsteps, cursing, and heavy blows.

_What, did they turn on each other?_

All at once, the arms that were grasping him were ripped away, and he felt himself falling through thin air. He had two seconds to dread how hard he was going to smack the street, when a strong pair of arms recovered him. His head swam dangerously as he was yanked backwards, and he instinctively resisted his assailant.

"No, easy, dude, take it easy! I'm not gonna hurt you!" The voice wasn't right - it didn't sound anything like the other boys that had been attacking him.

He tried to look over his shoulder, and caught a brief flash of orange before a dark piece of material was cast over the Agent's face.

"_Hey_!" His voice cracked with confusion.

"Sorry, man, have to protect the merchandise. There's a bench over here, okay? I'm gonna set you down real nice and easy."

The Agent couldn't quite sit up alone, and started to fall before the same pair of arms shifted his frame so that his weight was more evenly distributed across the bench. He couldn't see a single thing, but he could still hear the controlled madness going on in the street.

"Don't try to move, dude. I ain't leaving you," the voice reassured him.

It was followed by the sound of something whistling through the air, which made the Agent try to duck. He heard a strike connect with someone behind him.

His "rescuer" chuckled."Thanks for making it fun, punk."

The Agent couldn't hold his silence. "What's happening? What's going on?"

"Just sit tight, and we'll be out of your hair before y'know it."

"Who _are_ you?"

He felt a hand on his arm, and almost pitched forward as he tried to jerk away from the stranger.

"Relax, dude, I told ya I'm not gonna hurt you." The unseen voice laughed about something again, and then suddenly got louder. "Over here, guys, he's okay!"

The Agent stiffened as he sensed someone else hovering over him. He hadn't heard additional footsteps, but now a different voice joined the first.

"They're on their way - we have to move." This one sounded distinctly authoritative.

He cringed as he felt the slight pressure of a hand on his knee.

"Sir, are you all right? Can you understand me?" the second stranger asked him.

"What are you doing with me? Let me go!" he demanded.

"Help is coming." The voice sounded certain. "I need something from you, okay? We have to borrow one of these thugs for a little while. Please tell the police that we'll return him."

"_What_?" The Agent waited for a response, but didn't get one. "Hello?" he queried after a few seconds. "Hello?"

It was unnaturally quiet now, with the exception of the approaching siren. He writhed with his hands behind his back, trying to find some weakness in the bonds that felt like they were cutting into his skin. His heart was still racing from confusion and fear when he heard a car pulling up. There was the sound of a door slamming shut, more footsteps, and then a tirade of Spanish from the first familiar voice he'd heard all night.

He breathed easier immediately. "_James_! James, help me!"

The footfalls became more rapid, and this time he didn't flinch when hands grasped his shoulders. The material was yanked off his head to reveal his partner, whom he was happier to see now than he'd been in the entire month they'd been working together.

"Darn it, Heffernan, what's _wrong _with you? First you come out here early without me, and then you disobey Dispatch? What were you thinking?"

"I thought they were going to kill someone; I didn't know the girl was _in_ on it. _Ow_, James, would you be careful?"

The Latin woman had turned his head a little too sharply in an attempt to see where he was bleeding from.

"You're a mess, Greg. Who took down all these 'Kings?"

"I did, of course, and then I tied myself up," he answered sarcastically. "James, I have no clue what happened. They tried to abduct me, and then everything went crazy!"

"I'm gonna take a wild guess that you didn't see anything."

"No, I'm not even sure they were real. It doesn't feel like it."

The woman shook her head. "I don't know, Heffernan. It seems like _someone_ was looking out for you tonight."

* * *

**::snickering in the background:: I'm sorry. I couldn't resist - I just couldn't.**


	21. Interrogating

Leonardo smiled when he saw the unconscious young man twitch, as though he were coming around. The blue-masked turtle rested a hand under the thug's chin, raising his head so that he would be eye to eye with him when he woke up. The human blinked rapidly, and didn't seem to actually _see_ Leonardo at first. When his forehead furrowed and eyes widened, the turtle was fairly certain the man recognized him.

"Hey," Leonardo offered. "Long time no see. What is it that they call you? Emilio, right?"

The young man's breath caught in his chest, and he automatically tried to struggle against the leather strips that bound him upright to a hardback chair.

Leonardo chuckled. "You're not going anywhere _just_ yet, though there is a field trip in order."

The human trembled severely before forcing a bold expression.

Leonardo was tempted to laugh at the youth's false bravado, but decided to maintain a serious note. "It's over you know," he told him casually. "Your other buddies have already been picked up."

Emilio sneered at him. "Over? What you busted up tonight ends nothing."

Leonardo remained calm as he patted his shoulder. "The police and the FBI are on to your gang...and if anything slips through their nets, _we're_ still around to pick up the slack."

He motioned to his brothers, and saw the human go instantly paler as the other turtles stepped out of the shadows to join him.

Emilio was visibly struggling to uphold _some_ kind of courage. "What business do you freaks have taking over our territory?"

Leonardo saw the flash of silver, but did nothing to stop Raphael from needling one of his sai directly under the young man's throat.

"Be _careful,_ punk," the red-masked turtle hissed. "You're staring into the face of weeks of pent-up rage, and I'd love nothing more than to unload it on your sorry tail."

"So kill me," he replied defiantly. "It doesn't matter to me what you do."

"No one said anything about killing you," Leonardo corrected. "That would be too quick. You're not getting off that easy."

"Then what do you intend to do with me? Talk me to death?"

Leonardo lightly guided Raphael's weapon away from the Emilio's throat, and then brushed a finger under the human's ear to find the recess between his jaw and his skull. He didn't grasp the pressure point very long initially - hopefully just enough time to leave an impact on him.

"Do I have your attention yet?" Leonardo asked in a low voice.

The young man swore at him loudly, at which point the turtle reached for the pressure point a second time.

"That was a 'yes' or 'no' question." This time he didn't let go, waiting for the word from the youth.

"I..._yes_, I'm listening!"

The blue-masked turtle kept his face impassive. "Good, because I have another question for you, and you'd better have the right answer." Leonardo let go of his jaw-line and leaned closer to him so that he was inches from his face. "You have something that belongs to me, and I want it back. I have two reliable sources who assured me that you possess one of my katana."

"No-I didn't touch it! I don't have it!" The words dripped of dishonesty even as they left his mouth.

"I know you don't have it with you, but don't bother pretending you don't have anything to do with them."

"I don't _have_ your blades, freak!"

Leonardo smiled grimly. "You know where_ both _of them are, don't you?"

"That's not what I sai-_Ah_, _no_!" Emilio reacted severely as Leonardo depressed the pressure point harder than the times before.

"Tell me," he said warningly.

The young man tried to get his head out of Leonardo's hands, but couldn't break the turtle's grip.

"A deal!" he gasped. "I'll make a deal with you! I'll take you to the swords, but after that, you let me go. Your precious weapons, for my freedom."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "Sorry. This isn't a negotiation, and we're not letting you go. You're a wanted man, and the only other place you're going is to jail. The reward for returning my property is that we won't kick your tail before we turn you in. How does that sound?" Leonardo's tone flattened as he gave the young man a dangerous glare.

Emilio swallowed. "I will not agree to anything, unless you set me free. Besides, if you turn me in to the police, I will tell them all about you."

He appeared to be startled when all four turtles laughed.

"If you're gonna try and cop insanity, you'll want to start with something more believable." Raphael snorted. "Telling them you got held up by four giant talking turtles might sound a little too over the top."

"I'm not crazy! The others will tell them! They'll back up anything I say."

"Right, and the police and the FBI are supposed to take your _word _for it," Raphael said mockingly. "The offer's on the table, and if you're not taking it, say the word. We're dying to get a piece of you."

"If you touch me, you'll never find them!" he blurted out.

Donatello's palms came to rest on his shoulders that time. "I wouldn't say that. We found _you_, didn't we? We already know where you spend the majority of your time. We can go tear apart a few rooms. Would you like to think about this a little more?"

Emilio's dark eyes were bulging now as he gazed from one turtle to the next. "Do what you must. I will not help you unless I am promised my freedom in return."

The low growl that left Raphael's mouth made the young man stiffen, but Splinter stepped forward before the red-masked turtle could act.

"I wonder if _I_ might have a word with our thief?"

Leonardo instantly stepped aside for his Master, and his brothers followed suite.

"I do not believe you are either as brave or fool-hardy as you pretend to be," Splinter told him.

The blue-masked turtle barely repressed a grin when the young man features lost more color upon seeing Splinter for the first time.

"Let me assure you, young man, I have lived many years, and I know a _coward _when I see one. You feel powerless in yourself. That is why you have to exercise so much force over other people, to prove your superiority. Even now, you are trying to hold on to some of that power. It is not going to work. My sons are more than capable of retrieving these weapons without your assistance, but it would not be wise for you to refuse them. You are not even worthy to bear the blades of a ninjutsu warrior."

"I know this isn't real, it can't be," Emilio murmured, as though finally overwhelmed. "Swords, and warriors, and...and animals that talk..."

"You are inviting unnecessary pain upon yourself, young man. Be silent and consider how much these katanas are worth to you. They will do you no good once you are behind bars, will they?"

Leonardo had to exercise extreme discipline to keep a straight face while Splinter's onyx eyes appeared to be boring a hole through Emilio's forehead. The young man trembled again as Splinter bent closer to him.

"You will tell us where they are. You will take us to them _now_. If you deviate, I swear you_ will _live to regret it."


	22. Together

***Well, this lasted a wee bit longer than I thought it would, but that doesn't surprise me. This really IS about as uncomplicated as I get. I will definitely do some more of this "prequel" to my normal story-line down the road, but for now, I have to bid you adieu with this chapter. I'm over half-way through posting Redemption, and uh...I'm only 9 chapters into my follow-up fic, "Refuge". Unless I want to leave people waiting 6 months in between (they don't like that for some reason), I need to get back to pounding the pavement. If you're ever really bored, my normal story-line starts with "Of Hope & New Faces". It was my first fic as a newbie, and I didn't "know" everyone that well...but it does set an important foundation. Thanks so much for reading, and reviewing. Your encouragement keeps this author's head spinning with new (and more complicated) story-lines. Peace out.**

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Leonardo had a hard time maintaining his composure as he sat on the opposite end of the couch from April, and watched the red-headed woman laugh in a way he'd never heard her lose it before. She seemed to be trying to say something, but it took a few seconds for her to form a complete sentence.

"So... what did you do with his clothes?"

"Threw them away," he replied smoothly, and took a calm sip of his tea. "He won't need them where he's going. Strike three - he's out."

"I just can't picture...I had no idea your Master would go along with something like that."

"You _met _the guy, April, you know what he's like. He's lucky we didn't take turns pummeling him; we all wanted to."

April buried her head in her hands as laughter bubbled back up through her chest. "I would have given anything to see how the arresting officers reacted to finding him!"

"We saved them the trouble of performing a strip search," he replied as straight-faced as he could.

"_Stop_! You're going to kill me, Leo, I can't breathe!"

"He got off easy. Mikey wanted to take it a lot further than tossing the guy's clothes."

"Not bad for a night's work, huh?"

The blue-masked turtle chuckled. "_One_ night, April? We've been lying in wait for them for days...but it did end up being worth it."

"You sure turned the tables on them. How are the katanas?"

Leonardo drew one part way out of the sheathes that were resting on the coffee table. "Dirty, and a little dinged up...but it's still nice to have them back." He gazed at the weapons for a few seconds, and then gave April a serious look. "I want you to understand how much I appreciate everything you did. You helped the guys find me a lot faster than they would have, and I don't think I would be here otherwise. We're really lucky to have you, April."

She took a shaky breath, and suddenly appeared to be on the verge of tears. "I think I'm the lucky one, Leo. This entire city is better off for having all of you in it. I hope you never forget that."

Leonardo shook his head. "You're a good friend."

The woman smiled. "Takes one to know one."

Leonardo turned his head as he heard the kitchen door open, and watched his Sensei enter the living area. The rat paused to graze his shoulder as he went by the back of the couch.

"It is late, and these bones are tired. Good night, Leonardo, April-chan."

"You don't need anything else, Sensei?"

Onyx eyes gazed at Leonardo warmly. "No, my son. Perhaps training could resume tomorrow _afternoon_. I do not think your brothers are ready to settle down yet."

The blue-masked turtle chuckled. "I'm sure there won't be any complaints, Master. Good night."

April wasn't much longer for their world either. Leonardo took the liberty of walking the woman back to the surface where she could get a cab, and enjoyed the peaceful moments of contemplation he had on the way back to the Den.

_I thought it would be harder to just turn them over to the police than it was. But knowing we did the right thing with them...I think it feels better than taking out our aggression would have. Besides...we're not like them. We don't behave like wild animals; we wouldn't be able to live with ourselves if we did._

By the time he got home most of the lights were off, and only the faint glare of the TV was illuminating the living area. He walked in on the strange sight of Raphael bent over their youngest brother, who was sacked out on the couch.

"Uh...what are you doing, Raph?"

"_Shh_," his brother returned softly. "Mikey sleeps like a rock when he eats too much, but that don't mean he won't wake up."

"What are you doing?" Leo repeated more quietly.

Raphael gave him an evil grin. "I dunno, Leo, I thought he could use a makeover."

Leonardo looked at the sleeping Michelangelo more closely, now noticing that the surface of his plastron was _sparkling_ under the shifting light of the TV. His eyes traveled to the cans sitting on the coffee table, and he bent over for a closer look.

"Is that glue, Raph?"

"You bet your shell it is."

"Bro, you can't do that."

"Are you forgetting the little episode involving two dozen eggs last week?" Raphael scoffed.

"No, I mean, your technique is all wrong. Your brush is caked up, see? You won't get the right amount of coverage. You should wash it out, and then make sure you use longer strokes with it."

Raphael's grin returned. "Thanks, Fearless. You want in on this?"

"Nah, you go ahead and have your fun. You realize you're going to be responsible for getting all the glitter off the couch."

"It's worth it."

"Did Donny go to bed?"

"No, he's in the Lab. Said he said some idea, and needed to get it written down." Raphael shrugged. "All work and no play..."

"Well, most of his work is for_ us_, Raph, so we probably shouldn't complain about it."

Leonardo laughed softly under his breath as Raphael headed for the kitchen to wash out his brush, and went toward the Lab himself. He blinked several times in the bright lights of the room that were a stark contrast to the rest of the Den, and saw Donatello's fingers moving across his keyboard like lightning.

The purple-masked turtle glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, Leo. I'm almost done for tonight, promise."

"I didn't come in here to send you to bed. What are you working on?"

"I'm typing up some notes on my prototype." Don motioned to a small electronic mechanism that was sitting on the desk beside his workstation. "I'm getting close, Leo. It'll be nice to have the extra layer of protection besides the phones, y' know? Though I need to be getting some more work done on my firewall too. The sooner I finish that project, the sooner I get paid."

"How's it working out with these companies, Donny?"

"No complaints, Leo, it's been smooth sailing so far. April arranges everything up front, and it's all e-mail or phone communication after that. The pay-off is completely worth it. With the tech work I've already received, all kinds of possibilities are opening up. I don't have to just rely on parts from the junkyard or scavenging anymore. I'm on the verge of some real break-thrus for us, bro."

Leonardo smiled at his younger brother's bubbling enthusiasm. "It sounds exciting. Don't forget to sleep every now and then, okay?"

Donatello nodded, and shoved back from his keyboard. "I'm trying not to overdo it, but it's hard with all these new opportunities. I've had ideas for so long, Leo, without the means to carry them out. Everything is changing."

"Not everything," Leonardo replied, tapping him fondly on the shell. "Hopefully the most important things will always stay the same."

He offered his fist to Donatello, and his brother bumped it obligingly.

"Of course. We're always going to be a team. Our gear is just gonna be a whole lot cooler."

Leonardo laughed. "I could get used to that change, just don't throw it all at us at once. We don't need any heads exploding." The blue-masked turtle sighed contentedly. "My blades need some work, so I think I'm gonna head on upstairs. Don't stay up all night. I love you, bro."

The purple-masked turtle smiled. "Love you too, Leo. You did good."

"It was a team effort. Things seem to go smoother when we stick together, huh?"

Donatello nodded solemnly. "If all else fails...we know we've got each other."


End file.
